Archive of Our Own

“Look, no one informed me — ”

“As Pack Leader you should have already known,” Elder Kim interrupts, her lip curled in distaste. She’s a skinny woman, almost entirely skin and bones, and so old that her sagging jowls entirely hide what’s left of her jawline. When Jimin was younger, he and the other pups would mimic the way her skin made her look like a turkey, all of them squawking and running around in laughter after receiving a verbal lashing from the pack’s oldest member.

Now, Jimin has to bite back the urge to snap at her, his annoyance boiling over into anger. He’s in no position to argue with her, not when her opinion of him has so much influence over the rest of the pack accepting him as his father’s successor. He forces himself to breathe through his nose, letting the tension seep out of his shoulders and schools his features into something he hopes resembles a smile.

“My apologies, Elder Kim,” he says, ignoring the sour, disapproving stench of her scent. “I simply meant that with everything going on with the upcoming Harvest Festival, it escaped my notice. I won’t let it happen again.”

Behind Elder Kim, the pack’s priest gives him a sympathetic look. He’s lucky Elder Kim hasn’t gathered the pack’s entire Council to berate him like she normally does. The lot of them all think Jimin is too young to be taking on his father’s duties but Jimin refuses to concede his rightful place as Pack Leader to some power hungry alpha the council appoints. With Jimin’s luck, they’d select his slimy second cousin, Park Yoochun, who is no more qualified for the position than Jimin but is nearly 15 years older and an alpha. Apparently, subgender and age alone meant he had the wisdom to lead.

Elder Kim doesn’t look like she believes a word out of Jimin’s mouth, her lips still pursed into barely contained disdain. Jimin has known she thinks very little of him ever since he was young when it became apparent there would be no alpha heir to succeed his father. 

“Your father would certainly never have forgotten to have all of the required offerings for the full moon prayer,” she says, her arms crossing over her chest. She gives Jimin a once over and then turns away from him to direct her attention back to the altar. Jimin had completely forgotten about the prayer, thinking his mother would continue to fulfil her duties as Pack Omega. “This is what happens when an unmated omega is allowed to lead the pack. To think, at thirty you are still not mated. Were you, your alpha could have dealt with the Harvest Festival and your omega duties wouldn’t be falling to the wayside like this.”

Jimin grits his teeth, his scent nearly flooding the room with his annoyance. He can hardly believe that Elder Kim has such untoward opinions of omegas when she is one but he really shouldn’t be surprised. She’s as traditional as they come.

“Ah, Elder Kim, that’s hardly fair to Omega Park,” the priest, Hawoon, says and Jimin appreciates the effort to defend him. “Alpha Sungjoon fell sick so suddenly. I’m sure Omega Park is trying his best to keep on top of everything when he must also be so worried about his father.”

“If he can’t handle his responsibilities fully, he should allow someone else to lead until he feels more capable,” she says, her hands now clasped behind her back. She sniffs at the priest, nose upturned and unrelenting in her poor opinion of Jimin.

“I assure you, Elder Kim,” Jimin starts, eyeing the two altar girls shuffling into the temple with mackerel and a basket of pears, apples and persimmons. One of them has a pot of rice and the other a tea kettle. Jimin is a little furious with himself for screwing up such a simple duty but he’s been run ragged over the last few weeks while arranging everything last minute for the Harvest Festival. “I won’t make the same mistake twice. My father’s health does weigh on my mind but not so much that I cannot fulfil my duties.”

“We’ll see how far your promises go, Jimin,” Elder Kim says, walking past him.

“It’s Omega Park,” Jimin calls after her, keeping his voice steady and level. If she wants to run her mouth about duties and responsibilities, the least she can do is follow the proper naming formalities.

Elder Kim pauses in the doorway of the temple, her profile illuminated by the last dregs of sunlight. She snorts, “My apologies, Omega Park.”

She leaves after that, the temple’s doors left open to welcome the pack in for prayer.

Jimin offers Hawoon a tight smile and bows to the two girls. The sun’s still setting, sky illuminated with oranges and darkening purples. Prayer won’t begin until the full moon appears in the sky which leaves him with some time to himself. Outside of the temple, the pack is winding down for the day, their daily duties and tasks completed to attend prayer. He confirms with Hawoon if anything else is missing and is assured that they have everything.

“I will leave you to prepare then,” Jimin says, bowing to Hawoon and slipping through the doors. He heads straight home, anger bubbling through him with such ferocity he thinks he might rip someone’s head right off if they look at him a second too long.

He hasn’t had a moment to himself all day and his plans to check in on his father at lunch had gone out the window when he’d been informed that they were behind on the rice harvest and needed more hands. Jimin’s stomach growls, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, skipping lunch and dinner. One of the farmers had offered him a meal after he’d spent three hours in the rice paddies but he didn’t have the time, rushing to make it to a meeting to finalise the vendor layout for the Harvest Festival market.

A lifetime spent as the only son of the Pack Alpha has Jimin well acquainted with navigating their village undetected. Jimin slips through darkened back alleys and empty side streets, wishing he could just turn invisible. He’s exhausted and hungry and there’s a layer of sweat and grime covering him that has skin crawling.

But Jimin still sags with relief at the sight of his home and quickens his pace, jogging up the hill to escape through the front gates. Their courtyard is empty, his mother’s camellias looking a little worse for wear. Jimin makes a mental note to get them some water before he leaves for prayer, making a beeline to his parents’ room. The scent of medicine grows stronger as Jimin walks toward their room and Jimin’s chest pangs, missing the assuring earthy scent of his father. Instead, the house smells like illness, the herbal incense the pack healers always lit burning strongly throughout.

He slips off his shoes on the steps before his parents’ room, socked feet meeting the cool touch of stone.

For a moment, Jimin just stands there, bracing himself for the sight of his sick father. He sucks in a deep breath, knocking on the wooden door. 

“Eomma?” Jimin calls, waiting for permission to enter.

“Jimin, is that you?” his mother’s voice calls out, muffled through the door, and Jimin answers in the affirmative, rolling on the balls of his feet. There’s an anxiety that comes with seeing his parents these days, the weight of his worry nearly unbearable.

“Come in, sweetheart,” she says and Jimin slides the door open, finds his mother seated next to his father’s prone body. She looks as haggard as Jimin feels, dark circles hanging like crescent moons under her soft, brown eyes. The helpless feeling Jimin’s been trying to avoid sinks right from his chest into his stomach and for a split second, he doesn’t want to enter.

“Ah, I’m sorry I couldn’t come by earlier,” Jimin says, slipping into the room. A knot forms right in his throat, his father’s woody scent muddled and weak from weeks of being sick. The healers still haven’t figured out what’s wrong with him and Jimin can hardly bear the sight of his father like this, sick and suffering and so unlike himself. “Things have been so busy with the Harvest Festival planning.”

“Of course, darling. We know you’re busy, there’s no need to apologise,” his mother comforts, her smile completely without blame. Jimin can pick up on her peony scent through the mix of incense and medication in the room and it’s steeped in sadness, her heartbreak lingering in the room like a chill left in his bones. “He woke up around lunch but it wasn’t for very long and I could barely make sense of him.”

Jimin sits down on his father’s other side, closing his hand around his father’s. He’s burning up with fever but before Jimin can offer to help, his mother moves to remove the washcloth on his father’s forehead and wet it in the bowl next to her. The water trickles out as she squeezes the cloth and places it against his skin, freshly cooled.

Jimin’s father lays motionless, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he’s even alive. The knot in Jimin’s throat seems to mutate into thick vines, suffocating him and rendering him mute.

He has to remind himself that the healers haven’t given up on his father yet, that even as he appears to wither away, the possibility of his father’s recovery is still one he can cling to. And maybe Jimin is clinging too hard, the pressures of taking his father’s place being to take their toll on him. He doesn’t want to be the Pack Leader like this. He doesn’t want to see his father’s lively face slowly losing life, the pallor of his skin turning grey and ghastly, his cheeks sunken.

“He’s not gone yet, Jimin,” his mother says, breaking Jimin out of his spiralling thoughts. He doesn’t realise he’s crying until the wetness of his tears trickle down his face, his head jerking up to look at his mother.

She’s risen to her feet and has made her way around the mat, sinking down next to Jimin. He lets her envelop him into a hug, never letting his father’s hand go.

“Your father hasn’t given up,” she murmurs to him, her hand rubbing against Jimin’s back. The warmth of it sinks into him and briefly, he takes comfort in how safe he feels next to her. He wishes he was five again and every anxiety in the world would disappear as soon as his mother took him into her arms. “I can still feel him through the bond; he’s fighting to be here with us.”

Jimin manages a stilted nod, his words dissolving into a sob that gets muffled in his mother’s hanbok.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” she asks him, smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck down. It’s a gesture that has always soothed him, something animal and bone deep settling inside of him and it works the same now. Jimin’s crying subsides to sniffles and he feels a flash of guilt for breaking down like this, for being another person his mother has to take care of.

He pulls himself up, rubbing at his cheeks and wipes his tears, finds his mother’s scent sweetening in an effort to comfort him further.

“Sorry, Eomma,” he murmurs, lowering his gaze. He finds it unbearable to look her in the eyes, to see such warmth and love and worry reflected back at him. “It’s — It’s been a long day and seeing Appa like this,” he pauses, sniffling. “It’s just, it’s hard.”

He doesn’t add that it’s difficult feeling like an added burden on her, not when he simultaneously feels like he has no where he can catch his breath but with his parents and has to shoulder all of his new responsibilities without their careful guidance. He doesn’t know how to say it feels lonely, not when he has to succeed for them, the thought of letting his father down searing into his skin like a hot iron.

“My lovely Jimin,” she says, cupping his face in her hands tenderly. “Your father knows how hard you’re working and when he wakes up and sees what good care you’re taking of the pack, he’s going to burst with pride. I’m sure you can imagine how annoying he’ll be, puffing his chest out and going on and on about his son.”

Jimin manages a wet laugh at that, nodding in agreement. His father was a little obnoxious when it came to bragging about Jimin but if Jimin is confident in himself today, it’s because his father has never once doubted his abilities.

“You really think he’s going to be okay?” Jimin asks, the words so quiet they barely make it out of him.

“I have to.”

Jimin sucks in a breath, holds it in his chest before letting it out, slow. He squeezes his father’s hand. He needs to get back for the prayer and he doesn’t have to ask his mother for confirmation; she’ll be skipping it to stay back with her mate.

“I’ll check on you both after prayer,” Jimin tells her, rising to his feet. He looks down at his mother’s weary face, at how time has kissed the corners of her eyes and the lines of her mouth. Her greying hair is tied neatly back in one long braid and Jimin’s not prepared to lose his parents, not yet. He had lost his paternal grandparents when he’d been ten, had seen his grandmother follow after her mate so quickly it was as if she’d gone between the blink of an eye. Jimin sees now how young his father must have felt, forced to take over the pack without his father.

He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, scenting her quickly to return some of the comfort she’s given him. 

“I’ll see you then,” she says, her hand finding his and squeezing gently. “And Jimin-ah, make sure to take your meals and get some sleep.”

“Yes, Eomma,” Jimin says obediently, having already observed his mother’s empty dinner plate. He’s glad she’s still eating and he takes it as a good sign. Her faith that his father would make it seems easier to believe in when he knows she hasn’t given up on herself either.

Jimin leaves his parents’ room as quietly as he came.

A week ago, he’d sent a messenger to his mother’s sister in hopes that perhaps she could come visit. She had mated into another pack but given the circumstances, Jimin’s sure she’d want to be here. It would be nice for his mother to have someone who could look after her and help her with taking care of his father.

While the healers did come by daily, Jimin knows his mother did most of the caretaking herself. He imagines that’s how it is when you have a mate but unmated as he is, Jimin doesn’t quite understand the depths of a bond or the unwavering dedication.

As he trudges back to the temple, eyes occasionally flickering up to take in the full moon, he wonders if he’ll ever find his own mate. It seems like such an abstract thing. Unattainable.

“Have you been sleeping at all?” Taehyung asks, slipping into the empty seat next to Jimin. 

“Is this your way of telling me I look like dogshit?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Jimin smacks Taehyung’s arm but happily takes the bowl of rice his best friend offers him. He’s starving, having gone to bed on an empty stomach, and Taehyung has very kindly made him a rather large breakfast complete with cooked mackerel. Had his father skipped this many meals trying to keep up with his pack duties?

“You’ll collapse at this rate, you know,” Taehyung admonishes, already placing pieces of chicken and fish into Jimin’s bowl. He’s even brought over some pork bone soup from the kitchens and Jimin’s mouth waters at the mere scent of it.

“No, I won’t,” Jimin insists, stuffing a rather large spoonful of rice and chicken into his mouth. He reaches for some kimchi and shoves that into his mouth, too, eyes slipping shut at the warmth of good food. “It’s not even that bad, I promise.”

“Your word is pretty much useless, you know that, right?” Taehyung says, snorting. He’s pouring Jimin a cup of the barley tea he’s let brew, the sweet, earthy scent wafting up to Jimin. “Stop trying to do everything yourself and ask for some help.”

“Why? Elder Kim’s watching me like a hawk, always swooping in to tell me what a failure I am. And the rest of the Elders aren’t much better,” Jimin says around a mouthful of rice, pausing in his mission to inhale as much food as he possibly can before he bursts. “Besides, I already have Min Soyoung leading the hunts. Isn’t that enough?”

“Only because an omega can’t lead the hunts,” Taehyung points out, eyes narrowing at Jimin. “Moon Goddess knows you’re ready to do that, too!” His earthy scent sharpens in annoyance and Jimin swallows around a mouthful of food, brows furrowing together.

“Which is completely stupid,” Jimin says, a little louder than he needs to but his zeal gets the better of him. “Omegas and betas can hunt just the same as alphas. I’m probably better than half the alphas in the pack.”

“You know exactly why it’s an alpha’s role,” Taehyung sighs, quite used to this line of argument.

“Yes, yes, tradition and all that nonsense.”

“You don’t see alphas lining up to take on omega roles.”

“That’s because they’re all a bunch of arrogant knotheads,” Jimin mutters darkly, happily accepting the pieces of mackerel Taehyung offers him. He’s tried refusing Taehyung’s fussing before but Taehyung had doubled down in his efforts, glaring at and bickering with Jimin for attempting to tell him what he was allowed to do.

And well, Jimin likes being doted on.

“It’s useless arguing with you,” Taehyung says, finally taking a bite out of his own food. He’s been making Jimin breakfast every day since his father fell ill, insisting that he needed to ensure Jimin had at least one proper meal a day.

“You know I’m right.”

“Just shut up and eat your food.”

“Thanks for making me breakfast, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin says, drawing out Taehyung’s name with affection. He obviously means it but he can’t help laying on the charm to really rile Taehyung up. Judging by the way Taehyung rolls his eyes, he knows exactly what Jimin’s up to.

“Don’t try and act cute,” he says with a scoff, flicking Jimin on the nose in admonishment. Jimin bats his hand away, whining at the brief flare of pain. “And you really do need to get some sleep. You look si — not great.”

“You can say sick,” Jimin smiles, huffing a little. “I won’t fall apart.”

“I’m being sensitive,” Taehyung pouts, looking a little guilty. Things aren’t great for Jimin right now and they’re about as perfect as they can be for Taehyung. He’d gotten mated a year ago and is settled into the bliss of a bond, Namjoon in no hurry for pups. Jimin still remembers their mating ceremony in the last dregs of summer, the muggy night forgotten to raucous laughter and unbridled joy. Jimin’s father had stood next to him through the ceremony, a solid presence, an arm wrapped around Jimin’s shoulders.

The memory sits at odds with the image of Jimin’s father now. 

“I know,” Jimin says, softening his tone. He hates worrying Taehyung like this, not when he has his own life to worry about. Namjoon’s family ran the pack’s school and library and Taehyung is the only reason any of them remember to eat, too. “I appreciate it, I do.”

“Then listen to me,” Taehyung says, grasping Jimin’s hand and squeezing it tight. “I can get you a sleeping tonic from Healer Yoo and maybe you could go by the infirmary? This much stress isn’t healthy, Jimin…”

Jimin has to bite back his instinct to refuse, forcing himself to pause and consider Taehyung’s recommendation. Taehyung looks so earnest, leaning toward Jimin with his eyes as wide as they’ll go. He sighs. “Get me the tonic and I’ll use it, okay?”

Taehyung perks up at that, flashing Jimin a huge smile. Jimin would laugh at how his eyes almost seem to sparkle in his excitement but he’s just agreed to take a sleeping tonic and he’s always hated those. They almost always gave him nightmares. “You mean it?”

“Yes, yes,” Jimin assures, attention returning to his food. He needs to get going, having already kept the two of them here too long. Taehyung needs to be at the school soon to help out and Jimin needs to check in with the pack’s patrol guard. “Now come on, eat your food. You’re always nagging me but you’ve barely had anything.”

“I eat faster than you,” Taehyung says, and as if to prove his point, stuffs his mouth with a huge spoonful of rice. 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Sure, you do.”

They leave Taehyung and Namjoon’s house in record time, specks of rice still clinging to the corners of Taehyung’s mouth.

There is no better confirmation that Jimin made the right decision by putting off mating for so long than his dealings with the pack’s patrol guard. Insufferable arrogance must be a qualifying requirement. 

“Are you telling me that preparing the patrol schedule a week in advance is too difficult for you, Alpha Kang?” Jimin asks, forced to repeat himself when Kang Yonghan fails to give him any sort of reply.

“The schedule is complete well before that,” Yonghan says, not bothering to hide his annoyance in either his voice or his scent. He’s taken a seat behind his desk and has failed to offer one to Jimin out of disrespect and a misguided hope that Jimin will be intimidated. Jimin isn’t a fly to be swatted away.

Yonghan is a heavyset man, his belly rounded from years spent sitting behind this very desk but he’s nearly twice Jimin’s size, taller even than Jimin’s father who stands a foot and a half above him. Yonghan is well-kept, his beard trimmed neatly and his hair cropped close to his head. It’s more grey than black now, the first signs of age in any wolf. 

Jimin has to will himself not to roll his eyes. Yonghan’s scent is beginning to roil off of him to fill up the room. It’s an old alpha trick to exert dominance and Jimin wants to laugh and point out that adolescent pups fresh off their first ruts behave like this, not sixty year old men. Unfortunately for Yonghan, Jimin has never been impressed by an uncouth display of prowess and he’s certainly never yielded to a scent.

“Then I am failing to understand why I have yet to receive a copy of it.” Jimin does his best not to snap at Yonghan, levelling him with an unimpressed look instead.

Yonghan snorts, ignoring Jimin to look down at the paperwork littering his desk. “There’s no need for you to have a copy. I’m perfectly capable of keeping things running without worrying our Pack Leader. The patrol continues to function at our very best; we take our duties very seriously here Omega Park.”

He drags out the omega with condescension, practically sneering in Jimin’s direction. He isn’t hiding his irritation at being disrupted at all, his scent, a harsh cinnamon, battering against Jimin’s nose repeatedly. 

Kang Yonghan isn’t the first alpha to hold Jimin’s subgender against him and he certainly won’t be the last. Jimin is simply running out of patience having to hash out the same bullshit over and over again. He isn’t even the first omega Pack Leader the Parks have had and yet, everywhere he goes, he receives the same disrespect and contempt, as if he is incapable of handling the demands of Pack Leader because his subgender is known to submit to alphas.

“Do you believe your position as Commander of the Patrol Guard to be above mine, Alpha Kang?” Jimin says, keeping his voice firm and steady. He hasn’t moved from his position in the middle of the room and when Yonghan all but scoffs, Jimin curls his hands into fists. “Or do you think reporting as you once did to my father is so beneath you now that you have to report to an omega?”

“I’ve said no such thing.” Yonghan deflects, glancing up at Jimin with disinterest, like this is all a waste of his time. “You shouldn’t get so emotional, it’ll make your work more difficult.”

“Perhaps I am not making myself clear,” Jimin says, raising his voice an octave. Jimin shouldn’t even be here, in this office. Yonghan should be reporting to Jimin directly and yet here Jimin is, forced to stare down at his scowling, unhappy face. “If I don’t have a copy of the schedule provided to me, then you had better be prepared to clean this office out tonight.”

Yonghan’s expression twists into something ugly, his scent sharpening to the point of suffocation. Jimin’s omega whines at the demonstration but he tamps down on the rush of emotion, swallowing around his anxiety. He’s not going to be cowed by a bully.

“Do you think you can threaten me, little omega?”

“Call me that again and it’ll hardly be a threat, Kang,” Jimin retorts calmly, closing the distance between himself and Yonghan’s desk. Yonghan is seated behind it, legs crossed, and Jimin towers over him, staring Yonghan down. He extends a hand toward the alpha expectantly.

The schedule suddenly finds itself in Jimin’s hand and he gives Yonghan a smile, entirely unkind, turning the piece of paper toward himself. “It’s bi-weekly?”

“Yes,” Yonghan answers crisply.

Jimin arches a brow at him, waiting for the proper respect.

“Yes, Omega Park.” The words hardly want to make their way out of Yonghan’s mouth but he must really love his job because he spits them out almost painfully. Or rather, Jimin thinks, it’s the perceived honour that comes along with the title. If he loved his job, he wouldn’t be so obtuse.

Jimin can only imagine the backlash he’d face firing Yonghan but if he was going to hold his own against arrogant, entitled alphas, he was going to have to beat them at their own game. Still, Jimin isn’t in the business of intimidating people and twisting anyone’s arm to get his way.

“I’m sure you want the best for this pack, Alpha Kang,” Jimin says, a touch kinder than he’d like to be. “But I want the same. Your cooperation would be appreciated.”

He assumes Yonghan will make another belittling comment but the alpha only nods, his jaw locked and his expression darkening with each passing second. Jimin will pay for this later but he hopes that for now, he’s set an expectation of sorts. The more everyone thinks Jimin can be walked all over, the harder it is for him to get anything done.

“I’ll expect the schedule on time next time,” he adds when Yonghan just sits there in silence. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Alpha Kang. I’ll see myself out.”

He exits the room without waiting for more from Yonghan, tired all over again. There’s still so much to do and he only wanted the damn patrol guard schedules so he can get a better idea of how they spent their days and how many men Alpha Kang needed just to patrol the pack’s borders. They’d need to increase the guard once the festival started with so many of the smaller packs attending the festival and they’d need guards in the town as well, patrolling the market and festival events. If they didn’t have enough volunteers, he’d need to see if anyone would be willing to offer their services from the attending packs.

“He’s going to go running right to the Council.”

Jimin startles, thankful that the door to Yonghan’s office is securely shut behind him. He glares at Yoongi, heartbeat in his ears and a little annoyed with himself for not immediately catching Yoongi’s minty scent. 

His friend is leaning against the adjacent wall, his arms crossed over his chest and still in his patrol armour. The dark brown leather stretches across his chest and shoulders, broadened from years spent training. The guard’s customary red robes are a bright contrast underneath, extending down past his knees.

Yoongi pushes off of the wall with a foot, offering Jimin a smile and falls into step when Jimin heads toward the building’s exit. He doesn’t say anything until they’re securely out of Yonghan’s earshot before turning on Yoongi with a scowl.

“So I should just be a good little omega and keep my mouth shut when my subordinates are disrespecting me?” Jimin snaps, the anger from his conversation with Yonghan rushing back to him. He doesn’t have time for Yoongi’s patronising now, too.

“No,” Yoongi says, keeping his tone deliberate, but his scent has already grown calming in an effort to mollify Jimin. “But that obviously isn’t going to help you with winning the pack’s favour.”

“Oh wow, just startlingly brilliant insight there hyung,” Jimin says, exaggerating how impressed he is so that it’s entirely too obvious he’s being disingenuous. He has to remind himself to breathe, to calm down, but his exhaustion is making it harder to keep his emotions in check. “Truly, unparalleled. I’ll be sure to run all my decisions past you in the future.”

“Okay, okay, yeah I sound all like an ass,” Yoongi concedes, nudging Jimin back into action. They continue on Jimin’s way to his own office where he needs to review the patrol schedule and then go over what he hopes will be the last of the kitchen’s budget requests. They’ve already gone over what his father had initially promised them. “But I’ve always hated Kang and it doesn’t sit well with me that he’s going to run his mouth because he’s upset he has to take orders from an omega.”

“Join the club,” Jimin snorts, cutting through one of the smaller alleyways to avoid being seen by the pack. The last thing he needs is for someone to come running to him about some new fire they need him to put out. 

Yoongi keeps up with him easily, not that he wouldn’t with so many years with the patrol guard under his belt. He moves like a shadow, deadly and silent, and Jimin doesn’t fear for his life or anything but having Yoongi next to him is comforting. He doesn’t let himself linger on the thought too long.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Jimin asks when they finally make it up the steps of the town hall. Jimin has taken over his father’s office so he can carry out some of his duties and it looks even worse than when he found it. There are papers scattered across every inch of his desk and just last week, Jimin had spilled his ink pot all over the beautiful embroidered rug and spent nearly two hours cleaning the stain out. It’s still here but looks like a muted, ugly grey now.

“I’m not on duty every hour of the day, Jimin,” Yoongi says, sliding the door to Jimin’s office behind him. He follows in after Jimin, taking a seat on the floor across from him, Jimin’s desk the only barrier between them.

“Well, you obviously have time to eavesdrop.”

“I heard you’d come by the patrol office, “Yoongi says with a shrug, picking up a scroll from Jimin’s desk to glance over in disinterest. “I was simply trying to greet my very busy friend.” 

“I know what you’re doing,” Jimin says, shuffling the papers around so he can find the latest copy of their working budget.

“And what am I doing?”

“You think I need a personal guard,” Jimin answers, eyeing Yoongi over the scroll he’s just opened. The treasurer’s neat hand has dated the scroll to earlier that year so Jimin discards it for another. “No one is going to attack me from my own pack.”

“It’s not that I think someone will,” Yoongi reasons, sitting up a little straighter. His scent’s taken on the same subtle quality it had earlier when he was trying to placate Jimin and Jimin’s not sure he likes that. “But you have an image to maintain. You can’t be the Pack Leader and take short cuts through the town alleyways, slinking and sneaking around. A personal guard lends you more weight, it ensures not anyone can just walk up to you.”

“I do not slink and sneak!” Jimin says in protest, appalled at the suggestion. “And my father didn’t have a personal guard so I — ”

“Your father also delegated. He sent people to do menial tasks like visiting the Patrol Commander’s office for a copy of the guard’s schedule.” Yoongi’s words come out sharper than before, his eyes narrowing in exasperation.

Jimin has no defence, mouth pursing into dissatisfaction. He was one of the people his father assigned to do those menial tasks so that Jimin may better understand the ins and outs of the pack’s governance. Jimin had wanted to do even the most mundane of things if it meant learning more about his pack but now he’s been thrust right to the forefront and he doesn’t know who to trust or lean on.

“Kang would have given whoever showed up a harder time than he gave me,” Jimin mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s grown out, the ends curling against the nape of his neck but Jimin hardly has time for a haircut.

“Exactly,” Yoongi says, leaning forward, the leather straining across his chest. “He would condemn himself. Repeatedly failing to cooperate with you, never providing schedules or giving you expense reports — he’d be the one looking incompetent and conceited. Then if you wanted him fired, you’d have Council support.”

“I don’t have time to play long drawn out games with him, Yoongi,” Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. There’s a knot forming right in his right shoulder, the stiffness of the muscle beginning to restrict movement.

“He’s only going to be more obtuse as this goes on,” Yoongi says, still attempting to convince Jimin to oust Kang. Unfortunately, he is right and Jimin is well aware. Jimin has always had a few rather vocal opponents and Kang was among them. He had never agreed with an omega taking on the position of Pack Leader, going so far as to tell Jimin’s father as much. 

That had almost lost him his position, Jimin’s father furious that the Patrol Commander had such backwards views but the Council had urged Sungjoon to reconsider. At the time, Jimin had only just turned twenty and the reality of being Pack Leader one day was a far away one.

“Then he will and I’ll deal with it then.” Yoongi looks unhappy with Jimin’s response, likely upset that Jimin is being so stubborn himself so he throws him a bone. “I’m not saying your strategy is a poor one, just that I will have to wait until after the Harvest Festival to put it to good use.”

“I’ll get you the schedule next time.” It’s a peace offering, Yoongi’s smile wry and strained.

“I’d appreciate that,” Jimin says, happy that the tension in the room has fizzled out some. Yoongi’s dissatisfaction is still in his scent but the mint has softened, not quite so bitter.

Jimin has known Yoongi his entire life, the two of them introduced to each other soon after Jimin had been born. Their parents had been good friends, Jimin’s father and Yoongi’s father having grown up together and Jimin is always told how ecstatic his father was when he’d come along only two years after Yoongi. It delighted him to know that his best friend’s son would be his own son’s best friend.

Jimin had never had the heart to ask his father what he would have done if Jimin and Yoongi had ended up hating each other.

He’d had other problems to worry about anyways. Like how their parents had started to give each other knowing smiles once they’d both had their respective first heat and first rut, whispering about how the two of them were perfect for each other, two sides of the same coin. Jimin’s quite sure his mother had even planned out their mating ceremony but those plans had been dashed when Jimin and Yoongi had rather loudly declared they’d both rather die alone than mate one another. A lot of gagging and noises of disgust were involved.

Growing up as they had, Yoongi is very much Jimin’s overbearing big brother and Yoongi has made it abundantly clear that Jimin is nothing but an annoying younger brother to him. He certainly fusses over Jimin like one.

Still, sometimes Jimin wishes it had been that easy. That he’d fallen for his best friend and they’d gotten mated and Jimin had given birth to a litter of pups by twenty-five. Life certainly would have been easier.

Now he’s thirty and unmated and he’d rejected every eligible alpha in the pack in his early twenties.

Jimin can’t say he entirely regrets refusing the slew of alphas that had attempted to court him in his younger years. It had earned him a bit of a reputation with spurned alphas muttering under their breaths about what an ice princess Jimin was but he had always seen right through them. 

He’d had no intention of mating for the sake of mating and he certainly didn’t want to be with someone with ill intentions. As the only omega child of the pack’s alpha, there wasn’t a single alpha who had courted him without the desire to be the next Pack Alpha themselves. No one had thought Jimin capable of being the Pack Leader and Jimin wanted someone who treated him as an equal, not like a trophy they’d won, reduced to a mere object.

Plus, Jimin has never hated the title. He’d much rather be an ice princess, unmated for life, than end up with some narcissist alpha, his knot inflated to the size of his head.

Jimin pauses in his review of the patrol schedule, having finally located the current working budget in the mess on his desk. He glances up at Yoongi, finding his friend looking out the window, leaning back on the palms of his hand. His brows are furrowed together, mouth pursed into a thoughtful pout.

He considers Yoongi’s suggestion that he should delegate more and clears his throat, hoping that Yoongi won’t give him too much grief for taking his advice.

Yoongi’s attention shifts to him immediately and Jimin is offered an arched eyebrow, Yoongi waiting for him patiently. Jimin swallows around the anxiety building up in his throat, a little embarrassed. “Do you…Could you handle organising the Harvest Festival’s patrolling? We need to ensure we have enough guards throughout the Festival while strengthening the border patrol. The last thing we need is rogues slipping through.”

Yoongi looks momentarily surprised but the expression melts quickly into a smile. He’s grinning when he replies, tone teasing, “You’re not worried that Kang will find out? He’s going to accuse the Mins of trying to take over the guard and the hunting party and he’ll accuse you of favouritism.”

“Maybe he should have worried more about siring his own children then,” Jimin replies dryly, attention returning to the budget. He holds the schedule out to his best friend, waiting for him to take it. “Besides, your father is the only thing keeping the hunting party in check. I imagine they’d all be as insufferable as the patrol guard otherwise.”

“Are you saying I’m insufferable?” Yoongi baulks at the suggestion but Jimin only rolls his eyes.

“I’d never seen your father so upset,” Jimin says, waving the paper at Yoongi. He finally takes it, looking around the room. There’s enough room that Jimin could probably get a second desk put in across from his own. He is allowed to have his own staff and who better to help than Yoongi. “You know how badly she wanted you to be a hunter.”

“I can’t just live in her shadow my whole life,” Yoongi says, shrugging and refusing to meet Jimin’s eye. His decision to join the guard had soured their relationship but while Min Soyoung may have been disappointed, she was still Yoongi’s biggest supporter. “Besides, I’m better suited to the patrol.”

“You mean you like sneaking around,” Jimin accuses, moving some of the papers on his desk around to make some space for Yoongi. He shuffles closer, laying the patrol schedule out and grabs one of Jimin’s brushes, ready to get to work. “You could have been a spy for the King.”

“And leave the pack? I don’t think so.”

“Hmm, you could be a spy for me then.”

Yoongi laughs, the bright sound filling the room. “Aren’t I already, Omega Park?”

Jimin doesn’t reply, smiling to himself as he settles into reviewing the newest list of expenses. Maybe his mother was right and everything would be okay.

Jimin doesn’t end up leaving his office until late in the evening and it’s mostly thanks to Taehyung that he does at all. Well, it’s entirely thanks to Taehyung.

“Imagine if I told your mother how bad you are at taking care of yourself. How mad do you think she’d be?” Taehyung threatens, his arm looping into Jimin’s as he pulls him out of the town hall building. The main streets are lined with lit lamps, the smell of oil burning in the air, but the streets are emptying out and Jimin has a sinking suspicion he’s stayed at work too late. He can’t remember the number of tolls from the last ringing of the bell, too enthralled in correspondence he needed to respond to.

“She has enough to worry about,” Jimin scowls, ignoring the way his stomach twinges in hunger. “Don’t you dare mention anything to her.”

“So am I going to have to make you breakfast every day and come find you at dinner? If you can even call this dinner.” Taehyung sounds exasperated and the smack Jimin gets confirms it. “Did you even have lunch?”

“Yoongi brought me something.”

“Oh did he? And when was that?”

“You think he’d let me starve?” Jimin scoffs, already recalling the way Yoongi had nagged him for skipping lunch, too. That had been several hours ago though and Yoongi had gone and brought back a meal from the kitchens, forcing Jimin to stop work and eat.

“I think you’re both addicted to working.”

Jimin doesn't have a response to that and just ignores the knowing look Taehyung gives him, his scent growing stronger in both his vexation and his righteousness. Taehyung doesn’t wear being right very gracefully but then, Jimin thinks no one ever does.

“Did you go to the infirmary like I asked?”

“You know I didn’t,” Jimin says, not bothering to lie. When did he have the time? “Besides, you said you would get me a sleeping tonic. So where is it?”

“Once I told Healer Yoo how atrocious you are at taking care of yourself, she insisted I bring you to the infirmary so she can check on you in person,” Taehyung smiles, eyes narrowing in Jimin’s direction to crush even a single sound of protest. When none is forthcoming, he immediately tugs Jimin in the direction of the infirmary. Jimin obediently allows him. He doesn’t want to go but at this point there isn’t a single person he’s spoken to who hasn’t had something to say about Jimin’s thinning face and sunken eyes.

“Healer Yoo already assured me that she’d have some sleeping tonic ready for you this evening. She also promised to see you today when you come by.”

“You went right to her? There are actual sick people, Taehyung!” Jimin exclaims, nearly stumbling when Taehyung turns a corner too fast.

“If I went to someone else, you would just pretend to listen and then keep on neglecting your health,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly. He’s reading Jimin for filth and maybe it’s hurting Jimin’s feelings a little. “At least with her, you’ll feel some shame. Plus, when she sees the state you’re in, she’ll want to check up on you herself.”

“Between you and Yoongi, what do I need enemies for?” Jimin mutters darkly, still in disbelief that Taehyung had gone to the Head Healer directly. What would she think of him when she heard that Jimin was skipping meals.

“Oh please,” Taehyung says, guiding Jimin down a smaller street. A few pups run by screaming in delight, cheeks ruddy from exertion, their hands filled with treats. Jimin wishes he could run about without a worry, too, the nostalgia of youth tugging at his heart. 

On the bright side, it can’t be that late if kids were still creating mischief and Jimin feels a little better. The sun did set earlier in the day the closer the winter approached.

Taehyung is still going, ignorant to Jimin’s inner dilemmas. “You have actual enemies and you’re not going to prove any of them wrong if you keel over from exhaustion.”

“What enemies do I have?”

“Do you want me to recite the list?”

“You’re incredibly annoying, you know that.”

“You love saying that when I’m right,” Taehyung grins, every bit as smarmy as Jimin would be were the roles reversed. Jimin’s scowl settles a little deeper into his face but he doesn’t complain any further, well aware that Taehyung probably is the only reason he hasn’t ended up in an infirmary bed already.

They’ve barely walked through the infirmary doors when they’re greeted by Healer Yoo, her scent like a balm against Jimin's agitation. She reminds Jimin of the depths of the woods, her scent rich and musky. His omega whines, itching to shift at the familiar scent. Jimin can’t remember the last time he went on a run, too busy learning with his father and then taking over.

He does feel a little ashamed that he’s waited so long to come and see someone especially when he’d taken a keen interest in healing when he’d been younger, pleading with his father to find someone else to be the future Pack Leader. But just as the seasons changed, Jimin’s interest had drifted away from healing and he’d found a new obsession for his father to lose sleep over.

“Taehyung, Jimin, I’m so glad you could make it,” she says, greeting them with a soft smile, her eyes lingering on Jimin a little longer. She’s wearing the customary white robes of the infirmary workers, her hair cropped short and parted down the centre of her ageing face. She has kind eyes, their downward tilt softening her features and giving her an almost perpetually sleepy appearance. “Taehyung says you haven’t been sleeping well.”

They both bow in respect, and Jimin fights the rush of heat that threatens to bloom into his cheeks. “Ah, Taehyung likes to exaggerate.”

“Does he?” Her words seem to float in the air, wafting away. She smiles indulgently at Jimin, motioning the two of them toward one of the infirmary wings. Jimin has the decency to shrink into himself a little, a child admonished. 

“Yes, Jimin, do I?” Taehyung adds unhelpfully. He’s giving Jimin a look that borders on a glare but trying his best to appear kind and patient in front of Healer Yoo, ever the suck up.

Jimin chooses not to answer the question and simply follows after Healer Yoo when she directs them toward one of the examination rooms. They walk across the front courtyard, the centre of which is dedicated to growing certain herbs and plants needed for the work they do. Jimin finds the scent a little off-putting, the sharp medicinal tang reminding him of his father’s room.

“Come, sit,” Healer Yoo instructs, pointing to an empty chair by the window. A lantern dangles just outside and two candles light the room inside. It’s a small examination room, the kind you were ushered into when you were feeling feverish and unwell. There is a mat laid out on the floor along the opposite wall, a black headrest sitting at one end. Healer Yoo takes a seat across from Jimin and Taehyung rather shamelessly sinks down onto the mat, his back resting against the wall.

“How is everything, Jimin?” she asks, keeping her tone gentle. Jimin still remembers crying to her after his first heat; he’d only been fourteen and the entire experience had terrified him. It had come much earlier than it was supposed to, most omegas maturing between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. She is as patient with him now as she had been then and he’s more than doubled in age since.

Jimin glances at Taehyung who sits cross-legged, staring at Jimin expectantly. He can’t even lie and say everything is fine, another calculated move on Taehyung’s part. “I guess I’ve been having trouble sleeping but I mean, Appa is sick. It’s hard to…” He pauses, not quite able to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to say that he feels guilty for not being able to do more? That he has so many thoughts racing through his mind all of the time, a thousand and one things to fret and agonise over that it feels like he can never rest.

Healer Yoo hums thoughtfully, raising a hand to tilt Jimin’s head up. She has Jimin sitting right next to the window, her hand pushing Jimin’s head toward the light of the lantern. “How long have you had trouble sleeping?”

“Uh, since Appa fell ill,” Jimin answers, allowing her to examine him. She checks his eyes and then his pulse, assessing his mouth and nose, too. 

When she appears to be satisfied, she takes the seat across from Jimin again. “That was two months ago, Jimin.”

“I know,” Jimin mumbles, looking down at his fidgeting hands. He’s flushed with embarrassment, feeling as small and uncertain as a pup while sitting in front of her and maybe all of Taehyung’s nagging had been well placed. Jimin hasn’t been taking care of himself and being forced to reveal it all to the pack’s Head Healer has him filled with shame, unable to lie to himself any longer. He wants to disappear.

She sighs, the disappointment sinking into Jimin like an anchor. His gut clenches and Jimin has to stop himself from digging his nails into his palms, shrinking into himself. 

“It’s alright,” she assures, giving Jimin’s hand a squeeze. Her scent wraps around Jimin to soothe him and he’s grateful for the gesture, sneaking a glance at Taehyung who has let his scent bloom forward, too. “It’s difficult to look after yourself when there is so much going on and we often suffer when our loved ones are in poor condition, too.”

“But,” she continues, fixing Jimin with a reprimanding look while rising to her feet, “letting your health deteriorate in this way is hardly helpful to you. It’s easy to see that you’ve lost weight and aren’t eating well either. At your current rate, you could easily faint or collapse.”

Jimin’s heart sinks, having ignored Taehyung’s fretting just this morning. 

She walks toward a table at the back of the room. It stretches the length of the wall, jars and bottles of liquid sit along the wall, a mortar and pestle sits in one corner and a small cauldron sits in the other. Healer Yoo seems to have set something aside for Jimin already because she doesn’t linger very long, picking something small up. “I am sure you’re aware that this is stress and of course, that, too, is understandable. Taehyung told me that the sleeping tonics give you nightmares?”

Jimin shoots Taehyung an incredulous glance but returns his attention to Healer Yoo when she walks back over to him. “What hasn't he told you?”

“Taehyung’s concern isn’t misplaced. If anything, his care is a testament that you have worked very hard to win his heart in your favour,” Healer Yoo says, handing Jimin a glass ampoule. The dark purple liquid inside is familiar to Jimin — he’d had trouble sleeping in his teenage years, anxiety around his heat and his status as an omega keeping him up at night. “Love and care are reciprocal, Jimin. And when you did not seek help, Taehyung did what he had to.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says, feeling like a small child again, properly chastised. Still, he feels a little betrayed that Taehyung has told Healer Yoo almost everything about him. Taehyung’s scent has already grown apologetic, his smile a little tight, eyes pleading. Jimin resists rolling his eyes, knows he’s already forgiven him but lets Taehyung stew in his guilt for a bit.

“I’ve adjusted the tonic’s formulation so that it acts more as a sedative than purely as a sleeping aid. It should help to keep the nightmares at bay but once you take it, you will be far too sluggish to do anything else. Make sure you are going to sleep immediately after.”

“Isn’t that too strong?” Taehyung worries, perking up in his seat, the line of his shoulders raising up toward his ears. If Jimin’s being honest, the changes to the tonic don’t sound too bad. The thought that it would simply knock him out is relieving, his mind forced to give up control.

“The sedative is mild,” Healer Yoo assures, attention shifting momentarily to Taehyung, her scent sweetening in comfort. “And Jimin has never taken it before so a little will go a long way. Of course, if there are any side effects such as headaches or dizziness, come see me immediately.”

“Yes, Healer Yoo.”

“I’ve also asked Mina to prepare a tea blend for you to help you with the stress and give you a boost of energy. Once it’s ready, I will have her drop it off at your house,” she adds, motioning toward the door and leading the two of them out of the room. The evening has grown a little cooler and Jimin wants to hurry home to the warmth of his bed. “You only need to drink it once a day, ideally in the morning. It’ll offset the drowsiness of the tonic.”

“And the tonic,” Jimin asks, looking down at the vial. “How much do I take?”

“One spoonful at night,” she instructs, walking the two of them to the exit. The courtyard is empty, silent save for the occasional sound of crickets, lanterns glowing around the infirmary’s perimeter. “And never more than that. Do not take the tea and the tonic at the same time. You will make yourself sick.”

“Thank you, Healer Yoo,” Jimin says, turning to her fully once they’re at the front gate. He bows before opening the gate for Taehyung to slip through. Healer Yoo smiles at him warmly, reaching up to give his cheek a pat. 

“You have to take care of yourself,” she encourages, squeezing his hands in her own. “The pack is lucky to have you and I would hate to see anything jeopardise your health.”

“Thank-you Healer Yoo,” Jimin says, warmth flooding his chest. He ducks his head, a little flustered by her kind words but offers her a smile as he leaves the infirmary, waving one last time before Taehyung’s arm loops through his.

“Are you happy now?” 

“I’ll be happy once I’ve seen you eat,” Taehyung answers without missing a beat and Jimin can’t help but laugh. Taehyung’s bluntness should really not surprise him anymore and yet, Jimin is still caught off guard. He can’t help but feel loved.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Don’t you fucking start.”

Jimin is in the middle of watching one of the dance performances for the Harvest Festival parade when a messenger interrupts him. He excuses himself from the parade organiser and follows after the messenger, pausing only when they’re outside of earshot. The music is loud enough that Jimin isn’t too worried about someone eavesdropping.

“Is everything okay?” Jimin asks, eyeing the messenger’s empty hands. 

“Yes Omega Park,” the messenger replies, bowing before straightening out again. “I apologise for the delay in getting back to you. There was a severe thunderstorm down south and I was unable to leave your aunt’s pack due to flash flooding.”

“Is everyone okay? Their pack — ”

“Rest assured,” the messenger hurries to placate, “no one has been harmed and everyone is safe. Your aunt is travelling north as we speak. I anticipate that she should make it here in another few days. I left as soon as it was safe to travel but she wanted to bring your cousin with her so I believe they left a little later.”

Jimin has to contain the smile that threatens to split his face. Hoseok would be coming too? He hadn’t even entertained the idea, sure that his Aunt Eunhae wouldn’t want to pull him away from his duties as a pack healer.

His aunt had mated into one of the southern packs from her own, closer to the seaside. Jimin had often wondered about the difficulties of such a move, of how his mother and aunt had dealt with leaving everything they knew behind to join their mates. It was another expectation placed only on omegas and betas; Jimin had never heard of an alpha leaving their pack to join their mate’s pack.

At the very least, Jimin knew his aunt was very happy where she was. Jimin had visited them a few times when he’d been younger, spending entire summers with his cousin Hoseok, relishing the sight of the endless expanse of ocean. He’d felt a peace there like none other, spending hours upon hours playing and lounging along the sandy beaches. His aunt also wrote to them often, keeping her sister and Jimin updated.

Jimin maintained a steady correspondence with Hoseok, too. He considered him to be like a brother and had often wished they had been able to grow up together.

“Did she not write?”

“She wrote a letter to your mother,” he answers, tugging an envelope out of his inner robe. He hands the letter to Jimin who does his best not to wear his excitement across his face. There were certain expectations that came with being Pack Leader and Jimin did his best to keep up appearances, however tedious.

“Thank-you for making it back so quickly,” Jimin says, smiling at the messenger. He can tell his scent has grown warmer, anticipation itching at him to go to his mother. He hopes she appreciates the surprise. “You must be tired, please, go get something to eat and rest.”

“Thank-you, Omega Park,” the messenger says, bowing and leaving Jimin at the edges of the empty field the dance troupe’s taken over for their practices. He turns the envelope in his hand over, eager to read the contents with his mother but he tucks the letter into his hanbok, squeezing it under the waistband of his pants so it is hidden away and secured.

The bell tolls four times and Jimin curses under his breath, realising he’s going to be late for his weekly meeting with the Council. They usually met at the half hour after the fourth bell but Jimin would need to make it across the village in time.

“Beta Yun!” Jimin calls out, hoping that the parade organiser will hear him over the sound of the drums and the zithers playing for the dance troupe. He hurries over to her, wanting to say goodbye and to pick up the bag he’s left leaning against his chair.

Thankfully Yun Bora hears him, her head turning away from the performance toward him. She seems to sense his urgency and picks up Jimin’s bag to meet him halfway.

“Is everything okay, Omega Park?” she asks, eyes wide with concern. She hands Jimin his bag, scent piqued with curiosity.

“Yes, yes, please don’t worry,” Jimin smiles, bowing to her, the letter tucked into his waistband crinkling from the angle. “Unfortunately, I will have to leave early but the performances have really come along. They will be wonderful, I’m sure. Thank-you for your hard work.”

Jimin rushes off in the direction of the town hall, already preparing himself for the snide comments likely to come his way for being a few minutes late. Nevermind that his schedule is packed and the Council is all well aware of the fact.

The weekly meetings with the Pack Council are easily his least favourite task as Pack Leader and he would avoid them entirely if he could.

Every Thursday he has to spend nearly his entire afternoon with the nine members of the Council, all of them appointed to the role by the pack. Jimin’s only reprieve is in his aunt Myunghee, his father’s sister, who is relatively young to be sitting on the Council but still three years older than Jimin’s father. She is a petite woman, quite different in appearance from Jimin’s father. Where Jimin’s father had the bulk known to an alpha, his jaw chiselled with a wider forehead and broader face, Myunghee’s face is long and thin and ends in her pointed chin, her features almost pinched together. 

Sometimes, Jimin can’t believe that she’s related to his father at all given how primp and proper she can be when Jimin’s father is far more easygoing but then Jimin supposes that being siblings didn’t mean you saw eye to eye on everything.

The rest of the Council ranged in their opinion of Jimin from half-hearted platitudes to outright distrust and distaste — Elder Kim, of course, took the lead there. Jimin knows that if he had transitioned into the role like they’d intended things would be easier. His father had just fallen ill so suddenly and everyone had barely grown accustomed to him to feel that he was capable of the task he’d been given.

In the two months since his father’s illness, Jimin has run himself ragged trying to keep up with his duties and keep the Council appeased. Initially, they’d given him quite a lot of pushback, outright denying that Jimin should be allowed to take over his father’s duties. Luckily, back then Jimin’s father had still been able to stay awake through most of the day and he’d made it very clear that Jimin was to succeed him.

Jimin’s aunt had staunchly supported him, firmly reminding the Council that Sunghoon had always intended to name Jimin his successor. She also made it a point to remind the Council just how well suited Jimin was to the role and that his status as an omega was not the disadvantage the Council seemed to think it was.

He’s endlessly grateful especially since his grandparents had given the role of Pack Leader to their alpha son, passing up on their omega daughter. Had they both been alphas, there is no doubt Myunghee would be their Pack Leader today.

Jimin is out of breath by the time he makes it to the town hall, relieved to see that the main meeting room is still half empty. He thinks he may have even made it a little early, his decision to jog the distance serving him well. Jimin sends a quick prayer of gratitude to the Moon Goddess, allowing himself to relax a little.

“Are you ready for today’s headache?” Jimin whispers to his aunt in greeting, taking the small table next to hers as his seat. He sits down cross-legged and tucks his bag under the table. He’s made it a point to leave the Pack Leader’s seat at the head of the room empty. 

Jimin’s lucky he’s managed to slip into the meeting room without drawing the attention of any of the Elders, the five of them who have arrived lost in their own discussions. He notices that Elder Kim isn’t in the room yet and feels a smug satisfaction for beating her to the meeting.

His aunt doesn’t laugh and Jimin hardly expects her to but he sees the upturned quirk of her lips, her scent welcoming and familiar. “And if they overhear you?”

“I’m sure they’re all well aware how difficult they are. I’ve only brought it to their attention every meeting,” Jimin says, grateful to spot Yerim already seated in the corner to take notes. She is terribly diligent and Jimin has referred to her notes more than once to remind the Elders of concessions they’ve made.

“You are just like your father,” his aunt tuts, giving him a reprimanding look but it carries none of the bite he knows her capable of. “Always so contrarian. Sometimes I think you enjoy riling them all up. Sunghoon certainly did.”

“Someone has to ensure they don’t get too comfortable,” Jimin grins, smoothing down the fabric of his hanbok and setting his own notebook open on his table. “Imagine if I let them have free reign. They’d remove all omegas ‘unnecessary’ from the Council, claiming we are too hysterical and submissive to lead.”

He’s feeling far more energetic today thanks to Healer Yoo’s sleeping tonic. To her credit, it had finally let him get a good night’s rest. Thus far Jimin is nightmare free. He’ll need to go see her in person to thank her; he’d already apologised to Taehyung that morning for taking so long to heed his advice. 

“Oh hush now,” Myunghee scolds, swatting at his arm as she gives the room a superstitious glance but he can tell she agrees with him, her scent still mellow. A milky scent wafts up to Jimin and he blinks, reminded of his newly born niece.

“How is Yujin? Has she decided on a name yet?”

Myunghee’s daughter, Yujin, had just given birth to her first pup and Jimin had hardly had time to go and see the newborn. The milky scent of the pup still clings to Myunghee and Jimin’s omega whines, the ache of missing something he hasn’t even had yet burrowing into him.

“The poor thing hasn’t slept all week,” Myunghee murmurs, her scent as dour as her expression. “And you know how she is, worrying and fretting when the baby cries too much or won’t eat enough. I don’t know how Minho is dealing with her.”

“That sounds terrible,” Jimin says, reaching out to give his aunt’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. “And she won’t be able to take a sleeping tonic until she finishes breastfeeding? Can she take anything for the anxiety?” 

“Not that I know of,” Myunghee answers, offering Jimin a smile. She looks a little more hopeful, gathering up her resolve. “The midwife and healers have both advised that perhaps a trip to the hot springs would be helpful. Any medications could have an impact on the pup but the springs are relaxing so I was thinking of taking her this evening.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I think that’s a wonderful idea, Aunty,” Jimin agrees, thinking of the last time he’d gone to visit the springs. It must have been months before his father fell sick and then too, it had been at Taehyung’s request.

“Speaking of, you hardly look well rested yourself,” Myunghee worries, brows furrowing together. “Look at these eye bags. Have you been sleeping? You and your mother look one and the same.”

“Ah, please don’t worry, Aunty,” Jimin grimaces, grateful for her concern but he feels guilty all the same. He’d really neglected to look after himself and this isn’t the first time his aunt has asked him how he’s doing. He’s just gotten very good at assuring people he’s fine. “Taehyung has been twisting my arm over visiting the infirmary so I finally went a few nights ago. Healer Yoo prescribed me a sleeping tonic and this tea for the morning. I haven’t had a chance to try the tea yet, it was only delivered this morning but the tonic has helped so much already.”

“Don’t take so long to get help next time,” she says, her disapproval etched into the way she purses her lips. “If nothing else, your father is counting on you.” 

“Yes, Aunty,” Jimin murmurs, shrinking in on himself. “I apologise.”

The door to the meeting hall is finally closed, signalling that everyone who needed to be in attendance has made it. Jimin’s surprised they’ve been delayed for so long but he’s grateful to have had the chance to speak to his aunt. He’s less grateful to spot Elder Kim sitting across from him at the other side of the room. She’s pointedly not looking at him and Jimin does a poor job of hiding his eye roll, letting his gaze settle on the tapestry hanging behind her.

The room falls silent fairly quickly and Yerim calls out attendance, checking off everyone’s names. At the end she lists off their agenda for the afternoon and the meeting begins. For Jimin’s part, he provides updates on the Harvest Festival, citing that everything is on track thus far, and then waits for everyone in the room to either state their complaints or get into whatever problems they’re facing.

As expected, Elder Son, an alpha, is the first to speak, briefing them on the state of the pack’s harvest. Even at nearly seventy, Elder Son goes out into the fields to farm, helping with everything from the initial sowing and then to the reaping. Her counterpart, Elder Po, is the one who leads the gathering party. She is youngest member to sit on the Council, having turned fifty only this year.

The meeting seems to race by, the sunlight pouring into the room slowly dimming. Jimin notes when one of the town hall administrators slips into the room to light the lanterns, the darkening sky making it difficult for Jimin to take his own notes.

As things finally wind down, Jimin is surprised by how civil everyone has been, too preoccupied with the stresses of the upcoming festival, the harvest itself, and the ominous shadow of winter looming on the horizon to nitpick Jimin’s performance. If only all of their meetings could go so smoothly.

“Is that everything then?” Jimin’s aunt asks the room, shuffling her own papers. “I may even make it to the kitchens before the dinner rush.”

“I’m afraid there is one more matter at hand,” Elder Kim states and Jimin’s stomach sinks. He already knows what she’s going to bring up, her beady eyes fixed on him. That must have been why she was late — Kang had found time in his busy schedule to complain about Jimin.

“Oh, did we skip something on the agenda?” Elder Lee asks, looking concerned. He looks over at Yerim who shakes her head, confirming to Jimin that Elder Kim is about to bring up Kang.

“Elder Kim must have a complaint against me,” Jimin smiles to the room, letting his arms rest crossed over each other against the surface of his desk. He leans forward, refusing to break eye contact with her. “She’s been so quiet today. It must have been so difficult for her."

“Your continued disrespect does not go unnoticed, Omega Park,” she says icily, her bitter scent bleeding into the room. Were she even a touch happier, Jimin imagines her moss-like scent wouldn’t have corroded into something so reminiscent of death.

“Likewise,” Jimin replies with just as much venom. 

“Please get to the point,” Myunghee says from next to him, her scent growing stronger to combat Elder Kim’s. She’s frowning, her jaw clenching as she waits for Elder Kim. The room has grown tense, a sense of unease filtering through the air.

“Alpha Kang has advised me that Jimin threatened to remove him from his position today.” Elder Kim may as well be puffing her chest out like an alpha for all that she is preening like the cat that got the cream. 

A few of the Elders gasp, murmurs of surprise breaking out into the room. Elder Pil who Alpha Kang is supposed to report to looks annoyed that Elder Kim is the one telling the room this news. Jimin knows Kang didn’t go to Elder Pil specifically because Pil would have come to Jimin directly rather than air everything to the whole Council.

“I am sure Jimin had his reasons,” Myunghee defends, her chin jutting out. “Perhaps we should hear both sides before casting judgement.”

“Alpha Kang repeatedly failed to provide me with the patrol’s schedule and refused to give me a copy even when I visited him directly at his office,” Jimin says, keeping his voice level and devoid of emotion. “Should I have rewarded him for his insubordination? Would you, Elder Kim?”

“That can barely be considered insubordination,” Elder Kim sneers, her voice raising high enough to echo through the room. Jimin notes a few nods from others in the room and clenches his hands into fists.

“A mere schedule is not enough reason to dismiss him from his role,” Elder Pil adds in, his expression still twisted into a scowl. Jimin’s never been able to tell where the man stands with him. “However,” he says tersely, “Alpha Kang is well aware that a copy of the schedule is to be provided to the Pack Leader’s office. I will speak to him about his failure to do so.”

“Then I believe that more than wraps the matter up.” Jimin snaps his notebook shut, moving to place it into his bag.

“Hardly!” Elder Kim exclaims, inflating like a pufferfish in her seat. Her scent fills with fury and Jimin sucks in a discreet breath through his mouth. He can only hope that in a few more years it’ll lose some of its pungence to age. “Are you aware that you do not have the authority to remove Alpha Kang from his position on your own? That is a decision that needs to be brought before the Council.”

“While I understand that the Council should be informed of any such decision, I never intended to dismiss Kang in the first place,” Jimin explains, painstakingly slow. He can feel a headache coming on right at his temples, patience running thin. “But I would be remiss if I did not remind the Council that my father has removed people from their positions without Council approval in the past and I am no differently holding my position.”

“You would rob the pack of Alpha Kang’s experience — ”

“There are plenty of wolves in the pack’s guard who could capably hold Alpha Kang’s position as the Patrol Commander,” Jimin cuts in dryly, rising from his seat. “He will not hold the position forever, just the same as my own father. Perhaps the Council needs to learn how to accept change.”

That gets him quite a few scowls, someone in the room even snorts but Jimin’s quite tired and he had promised to have dinner with Yoongi. His friends had drafted some kind of battle plan to ensure Jimin at least consumed two meals a day, if not all three.

“No one has been dismissed,” Jimin says to the room, wearing his exhaustion plainly for everyone to see. “I don’t believe intimidation is a new tactic and certainly not one unknown to the members of this room. If that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Go on, Jimin,” his aunt encourages, waving a hand toward Jimin. “I’ll finish things here.”

Elder Kim is still fuming but Jimin would expect nothing less from her. “Thank-you, Aunty. I hope everyone has a good night.”

Jimin leaves without a backwards glance, sucking in a greedy breath of the cooling late summer air once he’s outside. He lets his shoulders sag, eyes drifting up to the purpling sky.

That had gone better than anticipated.

Jimin dips a toe into the bubbling water, the cool air of the early morning a stark contrast to the warmth seeping off of the hot springs. He watches steam rise up from the surface of the spring, letting his robe slip from his shoulders and pool around his feet. He hadn’t bothered putting on his full hanbok, stepping out in just his outer robe. The sun's barely come up over the treeline, honeyed orange light breaking up the dark morning sky.

He’d slept fitfully despite taking the sleeping tonic, a nasty ache in his lower back waking him up repeatedly. He'd eventually given up on sleep altogether and forced himself out of bed, the moon still hanging in the sky.

Initially, he’d thought to just get in an early start and then his aunt’s words from a few days ago had lit up inside his mind, his omega crooning in delight at the thought of an early morning soak in the hot springs. He’d made himself a cup of Healer Yoo’s tea and had set off toward the mountains, ignoring the part of him that was busy fretting about if he had the time for such frivolities and whether or not he would make it back down the mountain for breakfast. Taehyung would worry if he was late but he’d also be the first to jump in joy that Jimin had done something for himself.

Besides, a morning venture to the hot springs is really the only time he could go. By the time evening rolls around, Jimin is too exhausted from a long day to trudge up the mountainside for a soak. He’s glad he's made the trip today.

Jimin steps into the hot water and sinks into the heat of the water, nearly groaning out loud. His eyes slip shut, his muscles seeming to sing from the warmth cocooning him. He lets his back rest against the rough stone, submerging until only his head remains out of the water. Briefly, he thinks he should have brought his drying cloth with him to use as a pillow but the heat of the spring has chased away all of Jimin's thoughts, his mind blank save for the relief he feels throughout his body.

“I should have come sooner,” he mumbles to himself, allowing his arms to float next to him with an almost childlike delight. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so relaxed; he’ll have to thank his aunt for the suggestion.

He’s not sure how long he sits there but eventually the sound of others joining him on the mountainside floats up toward him. There were a few springs along the slope but Jimin had gone to the very highest one as it was designated for omegas only. At Jimin’s age, he should be here with his mate, soaking in one of the lower springs. Instead, he’s alone and unexpectedly, lonely.

It’s not a feeling Jimin gives himself much time to linger on in his day to day, the hollow feeling in his chest somehow ever expanding with every breath. Sometimes, like now, the loneliness intensifies into a single point and burns through Jimin’s heart, the ache of it throbbing through the cracks left behind. He stares up at the sky, the sun streaking through the clouds in brighter oranges and yellows. The sound of people laughing drifts up to him and Jimin suspects some of the hunting party from today has come by for a soak.

He should probably get going. Taehyung will have made him breakfast by now.

The pleasant warmth of the springs has begun to feel suffocating and Jimin pulls himself up and out of the water, his head fuzzy and vision blurring. For a split second, Jimin thinks the world is tilting dangerously before it rights itself. He blinks, a little surprised by the dizzy spell. 

Had he really been in the spring that long?

Strangely, the cool air of the morning does nothing to dispel the heat swarming up inside of him. He manages to sit on the edge of the spring, legs still dangling in the water, and pushes his hair out of his face, the longer pieces sticking to his forehead uncomfortably.

Jimin doesn’t understand why he feels so hot all over. It feels as though he's burning from the inside out, a sudden flare of heat burning through his body with such an intensity that his stomach constricts painfully. 

Jimin winces, teeth clenching. He hunches over, breathing through the sharp pain, and he knows that overheating wouldn’t lead to cramping. Jimin manages to pull himself up, struggling to stand as another dizzy spell takes him. He blinks, his whole body sluggish, arms pushing outward to try and balance himself. 

Where had he left his robe?

Jimin tries to focus but his stomach clenches tightly again and he cries out, breath stuttering out of him. To his shock, his cock is hard between his legs.

Jimin’s brows furrow together, disoriented from the sharp onslaught of sensations, but his mind fights to make sense of what’s happening to him.

The thought cuts through him all at once, the clarity washing over him reminiscent of plunging into the cold waters of a river.

He's in heat.

It’s too early, he thinks to himself. His last heat was only three months ago; he has another three months to go but his gut cramps again and Jimin gasps, his legs giving out under him. He hits the ground hard, but the pain in his knees is nothing compared to the queasy, relentless rush that bludgeons into him. His fingers curl into the dirt, the desire to be bred and to be filled up attempting to swallow him whole.

It’s only now that he realises how much slick he’s leaked, his scent turning almost sickeningly sweet and cloying. He’s so wet between his legs, slick dribbling from his hole down his thighs until it leaves him sticky and uncomfortable. The intensity of his symptoms alarms him, Jimin finally managing to push himself up on shaky arms. He’s burning up from the inside out.

What were the chances of his heat coming this early? He’d had no pre-heat symptoms to speak up; in fact, Jimin hasn’t had so much as a moment to spare to even entertain the thought of touching himself, let alone to actually masturbate. He’s been so busy. And anyways, his heats had only ever been delayed, stress and poor sleep sometimes pushing it back a few months. The healers always admonished him for taking such poor care of himself, his heats having been especially irregular in his younger years, so he understands even less how it could be here so soon and with such vengeance.

He struggles up onto all fours, blinking through the haze of arousal that bleeds through the pain twisting in his belly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, spotting the dark blue edge of his robe. He crawls toward it.

There were alphas not twenty feet away from him. By now his scent will have wafted down to them and Jimin needs to put as much distance between himself and the alphas as possible.

The heat pulses through him with a hunger that nearly has Jimin retching, the sudden emptiness he feels overpowering the last shreds of his sanity. His omega is screaming at him to climb down the mountainside and to get down on all fours and present, let whichever alpha is quick enough to plunge their thick cock into him to claim him but Jimin has gratefully not lost all his rationality just yet.

That usually took at least a day.

He manages to get to his robe and cover himself up, struggling to tie it together. Then he pushes himself back onto his feet, horrified at how much effort it takes to do every little thing. He needs to get back home but failing that, he at least needs to get himself somewhere an alpha won’t attack him. The cramps are still painful but with Jimin coming to terms with what’s going on, he’s able to breathe through them, his resolve outweighing the stabs of discomfort.

He’ll have to take the long way down the mountain through the woods. The steps that the pack has built along the incline to the hot springs are out of the question. Jimin may love his pack but he feels a little like a meal being presented on a golden platter right now. Even the most gallant alpha won’t look the other way when presented with the opportunity to mate the Pack’s Leader. Worse yet, Jimin wouldn’t even be able to blame them when he would be the one on his hands and knees begging for their knot.

Thankfully, the woods are empty, and Jimin might stumble a little here and there but he makes good progress. Every now and then a dizzy spell has Jimin bumbling into the nearest tree, his cock throbbing painfully and so erect that his robes do nothing to hide his situation.

It’s humiliating.

Jimin wants to cry but he wants to thrust his fingers into his hole even more, his body yearning for a knot, any knot. He needs to be bred, he needs an alpha’s cock to fuck him to satiation and then fuck him full of so much of their seed that there is no doubt that Jimin is going to give them a litter of pups.

His entire face burns as vivid images of what he wants done to him flood through his mind, Jimin’s hand squeezing at his cock through his robes. 

After sucking in a breath, he forcefully pushes off the tree and starts trudging forward again. He thinks he may be crying, the salty tang of tears making it to his mouth. It feels like he’s attempting to walk through molasses, his omega keening and whining for Jimin to go back to the hot springs. There were alphas there, they’d help him.

Jimin freezes.

He nearly trips, catching himself on the trunk of a tree, nails scraping against the bark. His palm smarts from the rough texture.

The scent of an alpha — multiple alphas? — is far too close to be mistaken for anything else but Jimin can’t spot anyone in his surroundings. He clutches his robes around himself a little tighter, slick dribbling down his legs and permeating the air with his heat soaked scent.

The sound of teeth gnashing hits him after he catches sight of movement to his left, not quite coming from the direction of the village but neither did it come from the direction of the springs. Jimin immediately inches toward his right, crouching lower so he can defend himself. The scent is far too strong for a single alpha, in fact, it reminds Jimin of an alpha near rut — reeking of musk and overpoweringly pungent.

“Who’s there?” Jimin demands, struggling to stay upright. His omega is whining and begging for him to chase after whoever this mystery alpha is, to get down on all fours and present himself for the taking, but thankfully Jimin hasn’t completely lost all his self-preservation instincts.

He isn’t going to submit to some creep hiding in the woods.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Jimin says slowly, moving in the direction of the springs. If he heads back down the way he came, at the very least there were more than just alphas present from the hunting party. Someone would help him, right? “But I won’t make this easy for you.”

A wolf bursts through the trees and Jimin startles, gasping when he finds himself face to face with an alpha nearly twice his size, its eyes a furious, ominous red. Dark, thick brown fur covers the length of the wolf, its tail sticking out and raised to assert dominance. There’s drool dripping from its muzzle, teeth razor sharp, and there’s no mistaking it now. The scent is overwhelming.

The alpha is in rut.

Jimin swallows down the panic that swells up through his chest, the weight of it nearly paralysing him. There is a tremble settling under his skin, his legs feeling like they may give out when he takes a shaky step back.

He needs to move. He needs to run.

The wolf is letting out a low, continuous rumble, the sort of thing Jimin heard from alphas warning another wolf to back down. It wants Jimin to submit. Its ears are pinned back against its head and with every step it takes toward Jimin, it crouches lower and lower, preparing for attack. Jimin sucks in a breath, heartbeat thundering in his ears, and he swallows.

He pivots on the spot and bolts, his hackles raised as he doubles back to the springs. The intensity of his heat steadies, fear eating away at Jimin’s mind. This clarity would only last for so long. Jimin has to make the most of it, he needs to get away, to find someone, anyone who will help him.

The wolf is hot on his tail, far faster than Jimin on two legs, and with every glance Jimin throws back he can see the little distance he’s managed to put between them disappearing. Panic chokes him, fresh tears blurring his eyes. 

Before he can think to shift himself, he spots a second alpha wolf speeding toward him and Jimin’s heart plummets into his belly, the back of his neck burning as terror grips him. There’s no way he’ll outrun two alphas, shifted or not.

His lungs are burning already, a stitch forming in his side. Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast, winding through the trees to try and slow down the alphas pursuing him. 

“Help!” Jimin screams, breathless and succumbing to the heat’s fever. His vision is blurring and his body burning up higher and higher. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up. He flies over the underbrush, barely avoiding tree roots that have broken through the dirt. 

He screams out again, desperation nearly choking him as he gets the words out. “Help! Someone help!”

The hot springs aren’t so far away that someone wouldn’t hear him, right? Sweat drips down Jimin’s face, a snarl from behind him rattling through him and his luck finally runs out.

Jimin shrieks when he feels claws dig into him, the impact knocking the wind right out of him. He slams into the ground, lands flat on his belly with such a force that he thinks he might throw up. Pain disorients him, his head pounding from the impact.

The alpha is on top of him, pinning him down, and Jimin can’t suck in a breath deep enough. He can feel the alpha’s wet snout sniffing at him, growls hungry for something Jimin is terrified to name.

But he’s lightheaded, his vision beginning to speckle with black spots. Jimin groans, attempting to claw away from the alpha but it’s not until he moves that he feels just how deep the claws have embedded into his back. He sobs, a flash of searing agony shooting up his spine. Fresh tears spill from his eyes and Jimin can’t afford to pass out but he can no longer tell where the pain begins and where he ends. His whole body is aflame, the heat’s ravenous intensity forgotten.

“P-please,” Jimin begs, the word barely making it past his lips. 

The alpha snaps its teeth against Jimin’s neck and he flinches, wishing he could just slip into the darkness creeping into his vision. The growling has subdued but Jimin can feel the reverberations against his back, the alpha’s scent so fierce that he feels the urge to puke again.

“Please,” Jimin pleads again, blinking against the dizziness. He’s losing clarity, the world blurring and Jimin fights to stay alert, his fingers digging into the ground. The wolf is too busy sniffing at Jimin, nose veering lower and lower and Jimin feels himself go rigid. “Stop! Please stop!”

He doesn’t realise when the second wolf makes it to them but the wolf on top of him lets out a warning rumble. It doesn’t seem to mean anything to the second wolf because suddenly the weight of the wolf is disappearing from Jimin’s back, the claws that had sunk into him ripping out.

Jimin’s so winded he only manages a pathetic groan, sucking in one greedy breath after another. Everything is spinning, and Jimin has to squeeze his eyes shut, his mind blaring one singular message to him: get away. 

The two wolves are fighting somewhere behind him, their growls and snarls echoing through the woods. Jimin crawls forward on his belly, dragging himself inch by inch forward, too exhausted to get up. He makes it toward a tree, the brown tree trunk doubling and tripling in Jimin’s vision.

At some point Jimin feels the rough bark of the trunk and he scrambles against it, pulling himself up with excruciating effort. Finally, finally, Jimin gets up onto his knees, twisting himself around before collapsing against the trunk to try and catch his breath.

It takes him a moment to see the two alphas but they’re locked in battle and appear to be evenly matched with neither managing to get a leg up on the other. As soon as one lunges to try and hurt the other, the other successfully protects itself and they roll through the dirt, jaws snapping at one another. 

Jimin would laugh if he could, can’t believe that one stupid decision to go relax at the hot springs has led to all of this. One of them is eventually going to get lucky and rip the other’s throat out and unless Jimin can sneak away, he’s going to be mounted and claimed.

The world hasn’t stopped swimming in front of him once but Jimin tells himself he needs to stand up. His legs refuse to cooperate and Jimin almost cries out in frustration.

The two wolves have rolled off to the side where Jimin can’t see them and he hopes this means they can’t see where he is either. 

Come on, he tells himself, gritting his teeth and pushing his back up against the tree. He digs his heels into the ground and hopes that this will help him get onto his feet.

“Good effort but you’re not going to make it very far,” a voice says to him and Jimin’s foot slips, his progress reduced to him landing on his ass in one fell swoop.

“Fuck!” Jimin hisses, glaring in the direction of the voice. He hadn’t even heard anyone approaching, let alone picked up on a scent. 

But his annoyance is short-lived because Jimin doesn’t recognize the man standing in front of him and by all accounts, he is not from the Park Pack. There are several claws hanging from a necklace around the man’s neck and Jimin knows what that means.

There is a scent in the air. Something comforting, sweet in a way that reminds him of home, and Jimin’s eyelids are so heavy. He tries to say something but the exhaustion is so all consuming. 

He has nowhere to go and the man is crouching down in front of him, a hand wrapping around the back of his neck. Jimin thinks he’s smiling at him but he can’t be sure. His vision is blurring again and this time, no matter how hard Jimin fights, he can’t hold back the wave of darkness that takes him.

Jimin passes out.

Jimin wakes up on his stomach.

He blinks, groggy and sighing with relief at his cool, damp surroundings. The heat has left him sluggish, fever burning through him with an almost punishing fervour. Surprisingly, he still feels better than he did prior to passing out, his lungs and legs no longer burning from exertion. Even the pain in his back isn’t as bad but he has no idea how long he’s been passed out or where he is.

Jimin’s brows furrow together. He’d been at the hot springs... Why is he lying down...?

It takes him a surprising amount of effort to open his eyes in an attempt to take in his surroundings. His head is still throbbing and Jimin’s throat is parched, mouth dry and bitter.

He squints but adjusts quickly to the dimness around him, vision still a little blurry. It looks like a cave, the rocky terrain a cool grey, moss inching up the walls. 

Jimin jolts, a flurry of memories deluging through him all at once. Suddenly, all he can think about are the two alphas who’d been chasing after him. They hadn’t come from the direction of the village or the hot springs, Jimin realises, panic settling in once again.

And there had been a man, someone Jimin didn’t recognize. Where was he? Is that why Jimin was here? In this cave? 

He pushes up so quickly he winces, arms nearly giving out from under him. The quickness of his movement makes his head throb sharply, his eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to temper the painful drumming.

“Fuck," he mutters, a hand coming to squeeze at his temple. His other arm trembles from holding his weight up.

Someone whistles and Jimin startles again, twisting toward the sound. He realises then that he’s been brought to an open-mouthed cave, that the entrance is only some ten feet away and rather wide. It looks more like someone has carved into the side of the mountainside and created an awning to hide under rather than a secluded cave.

Sitting off to one side is a man, the one who must have found Jimin and brought him here. Jimin knows there are plenty of small caves around the mountains, some are used by the hunters to store supplies when they stay out for a few days to follow a herd as it moves through the woods.

He sits up too fast and ignores the way his back pulses in time with the throbs in his head, scrambling away as quickly as he can. The terrain is rocky, little pebbles digging into Jimin's palms. Sweat rolls down his back, his robe clinging to him as the fever burns through him.

Jimin eyes the man, sitting against one edge of the cave’s opening, his legs stretched out in front of him. He looks almost bored, completely unafraid. The entrance of the cave is too large for him to block it off and Jimin can easily dart out of the cave once he gets his body to cooperate.

The man is staring at him, head tilting back in assessment. There isn’t much light for Jimin to make out his expression, everything blurring into grey due to the distance between them but he seems unaffected by Jimin’s state.

He’s scentless.

There’s no trace of his scent anywhere in the cave and no matter how deep Jimin inhales, he can’t pick up on anything. Was that even possible?

Jimin’s back is against the cold stone and he feels like he’s been cornered. He is still very much in heat. His cock is hard and leaking between his legs, the backs of his thighs sticky with the slick that seems to seep out of him continuously. In contrast to how parched he is, his whole body is damp, moulding itself into a perfect, enticing receptacle for an alpha’s cum.

Was he a beta? It’s not like they were somehow immune to omegas in heat. Jimin had hardly gone a single day after his first heat before a man twice his age, a beta, had approached him and tried to suggest Jimin spend the night with him. Jimin had been so repulsed, already barely understanding the gruelling changes his body had gone through and now having to fend off a creepy beta, too. The beta had only been the first to harass Jimin, Jimin’s guard lowered around him because of his subgender. He hadn’t made the same mistake again but it hadn’t saved him from the way alphas looked at him, leering and grinning, or from the crude gestures and remarks anyone with a cock made because he was of age now. The experiences weren’t unique to Jimin, whispered and shared amongst his fellow omegas in varying degrees of similarity.

Jimin licks his lips, wishing he had some water to drink.

The man continues to watch him silently. It unnerves Jimin that he can’t get a read on him, not even by his scent.

“Who are you?” Jimin says, trying to keep his cool, to keep the panic from showing in his voice. He’d gain nothing if he appeared scared or allowed that fear to turn to anger. “Why — why did you bring me here?”

“Oh,” the man starts, his voice carrying into the emptiness of the cave. It sounds amused, the timbre deeper than Jimin’s own. “Were you planning to protect yourself out there in the open somehow?”

“What?”

“You’re asking me why I brought you to a cave when you’re being hunted down by rogue alphas so I just assumed you had some sort of plan.”

“Rogue alphas?”

“Yes, rogues,” the man says, a note of annoyance seeping into his otherwise steady voice. Jimin still can’t detect a scent coming from him. “Your pack trapped them over the last few months and it looks like they’ve finally been put to use.”

“What — What do you mean? Trapped? Why would — ” Jimin can’t believe what he’s hearing. Why would anyone from his pack be trapping rogues? And what did he mean, put them to use? Were they released into the woods on purpose?

“Why else do you think there are four rogues sick with an induced rut chasing after you?” Jimin would be annoyed at the condescension in the man’s tone if his mind wasn’t racing with the implications of what he’s just told Jimin. His stomach clenches as another bout of heat surges through him and he grits his teeth to bare it, a breath shuddering out of him.

“Their ruts were induced?” He struggles to get the words out, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball. His cock is beginning to pulse painfully, hands itching to reach between his legs and touch himself to completion. Jimin brings his knees up protectively, wincing at the pressure against his cock when he squeezes too tight.

“Hm,” the man hums, tutting. “I suppose you wouldn’t know. Why else would you be wandering around in the woods in your condition.”

“Are you always this rude?” Jimin snaps, his patience worn completely thin. Sweat drips down his forehead, leaving him sticky and uncomfortable. He should be at home right now, lying on his sleeping mat, miserable and alone but safe. 

Jimin obviously has no idea what’s going on, heat addled mind trying to keep up with all of the particulars that have been revealed to him. How had rogues been brought past the guard? How had this man gotten past the guard? And what did he mean that their ruts had been induced? Why would anyone do that?

“You understand the predicament you’re in, do you not?” the man says rather dryly. His manner of speaking is direct and blunt, like he expects Jimin to keep up despite his mind’s slow erosion to his heat.

Jimin laughs, his head falling back against the cool stone behind him. He wishes he could strip naked and just lie down against the stone, skin itching for the cool relief. “You’re definitely not an omega; only alphas are this arrogant and patronising.”

The man falls silent, looking back out into the woods. Perhaps Jimin has struck a chord. Afterall, this alpha had worked rather hard to hide practically everything about himself.

Serves him right. 

For a brief moment Jimin thinks he’s really angered him but he doesn’t look any more agitated than he already was. He gets up onto his feet and walks toward Jimin, keeping a good five feet of distance between them.

Jimin finally gets a good look at him, his mind successfully fighting off the deliriousness of the heat for the time being. He wonders how much longer he’ll last, if this alpha’s complete lack of scent is what’s kept him from begging outright. His omega has been pleading with him to make use of the man in front of him ever since he woke up but Jimin refuses to so much as pant in front of him.

He takes in the alpha’s appearance, noting that his hair is long, falling all the way to his shoulders. It doesn’t look like anyone who actually knows their way around a pair of scissors has cut it, the length uneven and too blunt. He’s handsome to a fault, Jimin can confess to as much.

He has a strong nose, thin lips, high cheekbones, and a softness to his eyes that would seem at odds with the sharp cut of his jaw but instead, Jimin finds they balance out the fierceness of his features. And yet, the expressionless mask Jimin is met with is foreboding, his eyes cutting through Jimin with a calculating gaze that seems to see right into Jimin’s very being. 

With his newfound alertness and the man’s closer proximity, Jimin swallows, unease settling in the pit of his belly. The alpha is intimidating and Jimin resents it. His omega also appears to innately recognize something in the alpha, something dangerous that he should be wary of and yet, that very same feeling compels him to seek him out.

A shiver runs down his spine and Jimin cuts his gaze away, fixating on the cave’s mouth, eyes scanning the endless expanse of the woods.

“You don’t have a scent.”

“I do,” the man answers, crouching down. He’s not wearing an outer robe at all, his jeogori cut off at the hips, far shorter than what is the fashion. The collar of his jeogori is plain, made without the white fabric of a git and he hasn’t tied it very properly, too much of his neck and chest revealed. In the late summer heat, Jimin can’t blame him but it isn’t proper. 

“My nose is quite sharp and you smell like nothing," Jimin says, eyeing the necklace of claws he’d noticed before he passed out. It's a common sign of a wolf without a pack, the claws collected from their various kills from large prey to other wolves. Markers of survival.

“Hm,” the man hums and suddenly, Jimin is met with a sweet amber cut sharply through with boozier, woodier notes. Jimin’s omega practically keens and to his embarrassment, he leaks slick, cock twitching visibly as precum dribbles down his length. Jimin’s face burns in humiliation, a hand coming up to muffle his cries. “I don’t usually share my scent with others.”

There’s no doubt in his mind now that his man is an alpha. 

“How…” Jimin starts, unable to wrap his head around what he’s witnessing. Just as quickly as the alpha had allowed his scent to seep into the cave, it disappears, drawn back into him and dulling down to a few lingering lungfuls. “How can you cut your scent off like that?”

“Rogues don’t share their secrets,” the man smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, sharp and scathing. He’s watching Jimin with such an intensity that he wants to squirm, his eyes pinning Jimin to the spot. 

Jimin’s suspicions are confirmed then. “What are you doing in the Park Pack’s territory? Are you aware of the predicament you’re in?”

That seems to pull a laugh out of the alpha but Jimin can’t tell if it’s genuine or laced with the same suspicion and distrust he’d been shown earlier. “Your patrol isn’t nearly as good as you may think.”

“Regardless, entering a pack’s territory without their permission is a punishable offence.” Of course, the Pack Leader would be the one making the final judgement regarding said punishment and Jimin had no intention of harming the alpha who’d saved him. Somehow, he still seems completely unaffected by Jimin’s heat despite how enticing Jimin knows he must smells.

“And kidnapping rogues is perfectly fine?”

“I didn’t kidnap anyone.”

“No, you didn’t,” the man says, his smile leaving his face entirely. He looks annoyed now, jaw tightening. Jimin, to his embarrassment, misses the smile, however condescending it had been. He can’t tell if it’s his heat or something more. The alpha’s scent feels like it’s permanently etched itself into Jimin’s mind, the taste of it distracting him from what he should be focusing on.

He can’t remember the last time he’d felt affected by an alpha’s presence, their scent, heat or not. His title of ice princess wasn’t entirely born out of his guardedness and high standards. Jimin has never found an alpha’s scent to be irresistible — overpowering, certainly, and that did lead him to some trouble, his omega submitting too easily but Jimin had built a resilience to that natural submission. Even when he had eventually given in and started spending his heats with a partner to help ease through the ordeal, Jimin hadn’t been particularly smitten.

“I followed them, the kidnappers,” the alpha says, the silence stretching out between them. He’s pinned Jimin with his eyes again, the weight of them seeming to drag across his skin. Jimin has to close his eyes, cheeks burning with something more than just his heat. “I had to ensure their escape.”

A handsome face has never been a weakness for him. What in the Moon Goddess’s name was going on?

“Why?”

“Your pack wouldn’t be the first to abduct rogues.”

“Why…why would any pack do that?”

“Forced labour. Fighting rings.”

Jimin opens his eyes in alarm, sees the red glow to the alpha’s eyes, hears the dangerous edge in his voice. He licks his lips, dehydrated not just from all the slick he’s producing but from sweating out his fever. He feels sick, can see the way the alpha’s body has gone rigid. “That’s not all, is it?”

“Some are kept like pets, forcefully broken in.” The man’s voice is almost clinical now, devoid of emotion. “There are alphas who take great delight in breaking another alpha down, in forcing submission. Especially a rogue.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Jimin whispers, terrified of hearing the answer and yet unable to hold himself back.

“Not mine,” he answers, standing up again. Jimin’s not sure what's shifted but the man is looking at him differently, almost curiously. He turns away from Jimin, walking toward a bag he’d left slumped against the mouth of the cave.

He returns with a waterskin and Jimin’s eyes widen, reaching for the gift before he can even stop himself. The man lets out a huff of laughter, crouching down next to Jimin again, this time much closer. To Jimin’s embarrassment, he immediately leans toward him, nose seeking any trace of the alpha’s scent. Up close, Jimin can pick up on it, arousal simmering under his skin at even the smallest whiff of amber.

He can also smell himself on the alpha, embarrassment making his heat burn stronger.

“What were you doing in the middle of the woods...?” He trails off, watching as Jimin gulps down the water.

“Jimin,” he replies between swallows, eyes slipping shut again from relief. The water is cool, and the man’s scent, however subdued, seems to help. “I went to the hot springs. I didn’t…my heat is early.”

The man hums in understanding, refusing the waterskin when Jimin attempts to give it back. “I have another.”

“And your name?”

He seems to consider whether he wants to share it, eyes trailing from Jimin’s face to his neck to his chest. It’s the sort of thing that would irritate Jimin in seconds were it another alpha but for some reason it only makes him flush, the attention too much to bare and yet not enough.

“Jeongguk,” he finally says, a hand rubbing at his face as if to wipe away any of his misgivings. He locks eyes with Jimin and Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, hands squeezing the waterskin a little too tightly in his lap. Water sloshes out, cool against his burning skin and Jimin briefly entertains dumping the remaining contents over his head. 

This close Jimin can see the dark circles under Jeongguk’s eyes and the way he seems to only breathe through his mouth. It still baffles Jimin that Jeongguk hasn’t so much as touched him since bringing him to this cave. He’d carried Jimin all the way here, Jimin’s scent bleeding out unrepentantly in an attempt to lure an alpha in. 

Jimin clutches his knees a little tighter to his chest, wishing he’d worn his hanbok, that he had more layers between himself and the strength of his scent. “I — Thank-you, Jeongguk.”

That seems to catch Jeongguk off guard, his brow arching up. Jimin notes that it’s an awfully attractive expression.

“You brought me to safety when you had no reason to.” He offers as explanation.

“Do you think rogues are heartless?”

“No,” Jimin answers immediately, eager to demonstrate that he isn’t like everyone else, even if most of the tales about rogues he knew of did revolve around them being the most debased of their kind. He feels nauseous remembering what Jeongguk has revealed to him. No one’s ever mentioned that rogues were robbed of their lives, refused the right to even live on their own terms. It was bad enough to live without a pack or a home but to be abused in such a way? Jimin can hardly believe it. “But you don't owe me anything.”

You’re not pack, Jimin doesn’t add.

Jeongguk snorts and gets back up, leaving Jimin against the wall of the cave and returning to his bag. “You’re still in danger. There’s no way they won’t follow your scent trail to here and this is too much space to effectively protect.”

“There are other caves.”

“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold back in a small cave.”

Jimin’s eyes widen at the admission, taking in his surroundings anew. Jeongguk had picked it on purpose. Maybe that was it. This whole time Jeongguk hasn’t made Jimin feel unsafe, keeping his distance while carefully ensuring that he’d removed Jimin from danger and kept him safe. Jimin’s not sure if another alpha could have shown him the same courtesy. They would have argued that Jimin was clearly asking for it, that their subgender was naturally inclined to dominate so of course they hadn’t been able to hold themselves back.

“I was wondering how you…”

“How I haven’t mounted you myself?” Jeongguk asks, picking his bag up. He slings the strap over his shoulder and Jimin notes the broadness of his shoulders, his jeogori stretching over the breadth of his chest. His is a body earned through brute survival. “Your scent is enough to drive any alpha insane.”

That shouldn’t make Jimin happy.

He does his best to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t do anything about the way his entire face burns bright at the words, his scent thickening as he leaks more slick. The whole experience is unsettling, Jimin unable to pin down the rush of feelings inside his chest. He can’t differentiate what he feels and what his omega is begging for, pleased with Jeongguk’s show of knowledge and his ability to protect Jimin.

He manages a jerky nod, sipping at the waterskin. He reminds himself that he has no time to make sense of Jeongguk’s impact on him. There are more pressing matters at hand. He needs to get back to his pack.

“You mentioned that there were four of them but only two attacked me,” Jimin says, wanting to use the last of his wits to come to some kind of plan.

“I knocked two of them out,” Jeongguk reveals, pulling out a small jar from his bag. He’s crouching down beside Jimin again, motioning for him to lean forward. “But until I get them out of your territory, I have no way of ensuring they won’t try hunting you down again.”

“What is that?” Jimin eyes the jar, notices the calluses built up along Jeongguk’s rugged hands. There’s a scar running along the back of the right one, the skin knit over from between his middle and ring finger all the way down to his wrist. An injury like that would never have scarred so deeply had he had a pack. They took care of their own.

“An ointment,” Jeongguk replies, his expression impassive. He motions for Jimin to remove his robe. “I applied a little of this earlier to help with the wounds but we need to move and I can’t have you bleed out in the meantime.”

Jimin’s whole body stiffens, the knowledge that Jeongguk had removed his robe and seen his naked back squeezing around his lungs. He has to force himself to let go of his breath, Jeongguk’s proximity not helping him to hold onto any anger he might have.

Jimin knows that Jeongguk has done the right thing. He had an injury that needed tending to. But he’s also an omega in heat.

The fear never comes. Jimin suspects that it has something to do with Jeongguk’s scent wrapping around him, the sweetness of it immediately calming Jimin down. He scans Jeongguk’s face for any indication of guilt but Jeongguk looks clear of conscience, waiting patiently for Jimin to move. 

He decides to trust Jeongguk, pushing himself off the wall and winces in the process. Were the puncture wounds in his back still bleeding? His robe sticks to his skin, the steady throb from the injuries getting lost in the myriad of sensations Jimin is fighting through.

It occurs to him that Jeongguk has mentioned that these rogues were after him in particular twice now. How could they have picked up on Jimin’s scent from wherever they’d been kept? Even the alphas at the springs hadn’t chased after him.

“Where were these rogues being kept?” Jimin asks, wanting to know the distance they’d covered to find him. He lets the ribbon tying his robes together come loose, nearly sighing in relief at the temporary coolness that caresses his skin.

“An abandoned mill by the looks of it. There were no other buildings around,” Jeongguk replies, helping to peel Jimin’s robe back and off his shoulder. He’s careful not to touch Jimin’s skin unnecessarily and it’s a relief and agony at once. Jimin grits his teeth through it, turning his back to Jeongguk.

He notices the tremor running through his body too late to suppress it, hoping that his body’s reaction to Jeongguk’s eyes trailing over his skin doesn’t come across as rejection. Jimin can hardly believe he’s having such thoughts but the tension seems to seep right out of him when he feels fingers rub gently at the back of his neck. Jeongguk’s scent has grown stronger, every lungful Jimin inhales steeped with sweet amber.

“This will hurt,” Jeongguk says, his warm touch disappearing from Jimin’s neck. He has to bite down on his lip to keep from whining at the loss, eyes widening in horror at his own shamelessness.

Jimin hears the slosh of liquid and feels a wet cloth wipe away at his skin, working tenderly to clean him up. He flinches when the cloth brushes over the wounds, eyes squeezing shut at the mixture of pain and pleasure coursing him.

“The bleeding has mostly stopped,” Jeongguk informs him, one of his hands settling against Jimin’s side to keep him from moving. Seconds later, he can feel Jeongguk’s fingers dabbing the ointment to at least six or seven spots but Jimin is almost delirious with arousal, his body unravelling at Jeongguk’s touch.

It takes everything in him not to moan, precum dribbling from his cock immediately. Jimin can’t form a coherent thought, hyperfocused on Jeongguk’s touch and his presence behind him.

“Are you done?” he chokes out, wanting nothing more than to yank his robe back up around him and to escape Jeongguk’s excruciating attention. Jimin’s not sure how much longer he can hold his omega’s wild thrashing back, lust ripping away all rationality.

“Let it dry,” Jeongguk orders and Jimin has to bite back the Yes Alpha that threatens to slip past his lips. Instead, he makes a pathetic, humiliating sound that leaves him leaking another rush of slick when Jeongguk blows against the ointment to help it dry faster.

“The — the abandoned mill,” Jimin starts, refusing to acknowledge his body’s betrayal. “It’s practically on the outskirts of the pack’s territory. The springs are on the northern border and the Sangcheon river on the southern. How could the rogues have found me all the way here when no one else noticed?”

“They were brought out to the middle of the woods a few days ago. Some members of your pack’s patrol watched over them,” Jeongguk explains, removing his hand from Jimin’s flank. He misses it immediately but snatches his robe back up, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots down his back at the motion. “They’ve been kept chained to trees. One of them had a jeogori that he had the rogues sniff after they were drugged. I assume it was yours…”

“Kang Yonghan,” Jimin breathes out, shocked at the implications. Was he behind this? Why else would the patrol guard be involved? “How do you know who they were?”

“They wear red, don’t they?”

“How could they have…” Jimin starts, not wanting to finish the thought. He doesn’t want to believe that someone, that anyone would target him like this.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, allowing Jimin a moment to grieve. Another kindness bestowed upon him from a stranger and yet his own…Nausea rises so intensely up Jimin’s throat he gags. This was all intentional. Waiting for Jimin’s heat…the alphas’ ruts…

“We need to get going,” Jeongguk says quietly, reaching for Jimin. “Those two alphas are nearly here.”

He almost wants to tell Jeongguk to stay back, that Jimin's resolve is slowly crumbling. He grinds his teeth through a particularly painful cramp, his body seizing up, aching for a cock to bury inside of him. Jimin can barely stand his own scent, sickeningly sweet and drowning the cave's natural earthy scent completely out.

His mind flashes an image of Jeongguk looming over him, cock buried so deep inside of Jimin he feels it all the way in his belly, overwhelmed. It’s all too much.

Jimin lets Jeongguk get him to his feet. He allows himself to lean against the alpha, his body sturdy and hard. Every second Jimin spends in Jeongguk’s presence eats away at what little sanity he has remaining.

“How close are they?” Jimin asks, his senses incapable of detecting anything besides Jeongguk.

“Closer than I am happy with.”

“Can you tell how many?”

“At least the two, but their running is erratic so the sound is muddled and still too far,” Jeongguk replies, testing out Jimin’s ability to walk by nudging him toward the cave’s exit. Jimin’s legs are wobbly but he manages a few steps with Jeongguk to lean on. They aren’t going to get very far like this though.

Jeongguk is clearly very capable but even Jimin knows that they’re pushing their luck if they think he can handle four rogues attacking them at once. Jimin has no idea how long these poor rogues have been kept in their ruts without any sort of relief. How long had those guards waited to release the rogues so that they could guarantee an attack on Jimin?

The thought strikes Jimin like lightning, scorching through him until he’s rooted to the spot. 

He can’t ask this of Jeongguk and yet Jimin sees no alternative.

“You...you have to bite me.”

Jeongguk stills next to him, the tendrils of his scent that he’s released to give Jimin some sense of comfort sharpening at once. Jimin’s hand curls into Jeongguk’s sleeve, head swimming at the influx of spiced amber, the woody notes of his scent overwhelming him.

“What?”

“It’s the only way,” Jimin explains, mind racing. His omega is delighted by the idea of mating an alpha like Jeongguk, ignoring Jimin’s dismay entirely. Despite his inner conflict, Jimin would bare his throat happily if it meant he would still be in possession of his life. “You said it yourself. I’m still in danger and they’ve been taught to — to want my scent. To want me.”

“You’re asking me to bind myself to you.” Jeongguk sounds acidic, his guard rising against Jimin immediately.

“It would be temporary,” Jimin lies, glancing at Jeongguk quickly to see if he can tell. He’s relying on the notion that Jeongguk has limited knowledge when it comes to mating. “I’m not — I’m not asking you to," he swallows, humiliated to say the words out loud. “To f-fuck me. Just to bite me. They’re not going to back down, not when they’re in rut, but — ah, fuck!”

Jimin curls into himself, nearly drooling when a wave of arousal so strong it makes him light-headed washes over him. His hole clenches, cock throbbing painfully. Jeongguk keeps him upright, Jimin’s knees nearly giving out from under him. The heat is bringing him closer and closer to delirium. “I’ll — I’ll be useless to them if I’m mated.”

A bound omega would reject the seed of another alpha. Jimin will survive whatever he has to but the thought of being forced to have an alpha’s children…He would rather die.

“You think they’re going to give a fuck?” It’s the first time Jeongguk's voice has risen out in such anger, his control over his scent nearly lost. “All they can think about is getting their cocks wet. They’re not concerned with whether or not you’re mated. If they manage to successfully breed an omega that would simply be a blessing.”

“It’s not just about them! Moon Goddess above, you’re so — ”

“I’m so what?”

“I don’t — I don’t want to be raped and bound to some rogue against my will!” Jimin cries out, wiping furiously at his eyes when the tears begin to fall.

“I’m a rogue.”

“Is that your takeaway?”

That seems to shut him up, his jaw tightening. He glances back out at the woods before looking down at Jimin. He must understand it on some level — Jimin would lose everything if one of those alphas got him. At least if it’s Jeongguk, Jimin can still remain with his pack even when Jeongguk leaves.

It’s an impossible ask, Jimin knows. It may even be unforgivable but what choice does Jimin have? By now Taehyung will have gone to Yoongi and told him that Jimin is missing, has been missing all morning, but sending out a search party into the woods will be lower on their list of priorities. They’ll search the village first.

Jimin hadn’t even told anyone that he was visiting the hot springs. It had been a spur of the moment decision and he’s never regretted something more. He wishes he’d at least visited his parents that morning.

“I can’t bite you.” Jeongguk says it with a note of finality that spreads panic through Jimin, his heart beating so quickly in his chest that Jimin thinks it might burst right out.

“Do you even know how bonds work?”

“Do you think I’m stupid and uneducated, that I don’t know anything because I’m packless?”

“Then you would know it’s a temporary bond, that it would be incomplete. The impact would fall on me, not you.” That is only half a lie. The bond would not be temporary, not with Jimin in heat, but it would be incomplete unless Jimin managed to bite Jeongguk in return.

It wouldn’t be so different if one of the rogues got to him first.

“Then what difference would it make if it was me or one of them?”

“Because I am asking you,” Jimin cries out, his belly twisting in agony. Jimin’s heats have never been kind to him, always brutal and violent, his body demanding that he be filled but he wishes it would give him some respite. “I have no choice with them. They would — They do not have your control and I would be bound to them not from a bond but from the pups they would force me to bear for them. So what is it that you don’t understand?”

“Come on, I’m getting you to somewhere safer and then I’ll deal with — ”

“You can’t possibly fight four alphas out of their minds with rut,” Jimin argues, uncaring of how desperate he sounds. “You said you wanted to help them escape but unless you kill them — ”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Jeongguk snaps, cutting Jimin off. For the first time he glares at Jimin, moving to simply pick Jimin up and carry him out.

“If even one of them makes it past you, they’ll waste no time sinking their teeth into me,” Jimin says with a firmness he does not feel. He doesn’t look away when Jeongguk’s eyes flash red in warning, his scent wrapping around Jimin, demanding his submission.

Jeongguk has no time to retort back, his head whipping up in the direction of the woods. In their argument, he’s been distracted and Jimin’s heart sinks, when he catches sight of the wolf ripping through the woods toward them. There is no way Jeongguk can  get Jimin anywhere else now.

“Please,” Jimin pleads, tears running down his cheeks. Fear has his heart hammering against his chest with a ferocity that makes the world appear slowed down. Every second that passes is excruciating. 

He watches as Jeongguk shifts to stand between Jimin and the incoming rogue, the bag slipping from his shoulder. He blocks Jimin entirely from view, easily half a head taller and bigger and broader than Jimin in every way. The bag drops to the ground, Jeongguk already working to remove his jeogori and pants.

Jeongguk turns back to look at Jimin only once, his eyes glowing red, fangs already beginning to protrude from his mouth. Jimin freezes, his heart stuttering to a stop. Jeongguk’s sheer presence has Jimin’s knees giving out, his throat closing up, unable to even suck in a breath. He’s never felt a presence like it, so unbearable and menacing.

“Stay,” Jeongguk commands and Jimin’s entire world reorients on the command. He bares his neck in submission, eyes trained on the ground.

Satisfied, Jeongguk shifts in one quick go, his body contorting before Jimin’s eyes. Skin gives away to the blackest fur Jimin has seen, as if Jeongguk’s wolf had somehow captured the night sky and painted it onto himself.

His wolf is just as threatening as his person but what renders Jimin awestruck is the sheer size of him. He’s bigger than the wolves that had attacked Jimin. He’s bigger than Jimin’s father and Jimin has never seen anyone bigger than his father.

Jeongguk sprints out of the cave with such a speed that Jimin’s left blinking in disbelief. His size should have slowed him down and yet Jeongguk moves with the agility of someone half his size, not at all hindered by his bulk.

Jimin is left alone in the cave, the openness of it giving Jimin heart palpitations. His vision seems to swim, breath coming in shorter and tighter gasps. He grabs Jeongguk’s things and crawls toward one of the corners, attempting to hide himself anywhere he can.

The heat hasn’t relented in any of this and it’s not until Jimin’s got his back pressed to the wall of the cave again that he realises he’s come. The smell of cum has Jimin jerking his head down where he finds the sticky, white mess seeping through his robes. His eyes widen at the sight, heart trembling in his chest.

When had he…?

The sound of a wolf’s howl breaks through Jimin’s trance and he swallows, too scared to move but wishing he could see what was going on.

Time seems to pass as slowly as a snail’s crawl and without Jeongguk’s presence to ground him, Jimin’s heat devours him. He has a hand wrapped around his cock moving quickly up and down the length to bring himself some relief. To his horror, he has Jeongguk’s jeogori pressed to his face, his scent urging Jimin closer and closer to his orgasm.

He comes far too easily and it doesn’t bring any relief. Jimin lets out a wet sob, curling into himself. He can’t keep his eyes open, mind slipping further and further away. Jimin clutches Jeongguk’s jeogori tightly to himself, his face burying into the fabric, the scent of spice and amber completely taking over his mind.

“Alpha…” he calls, Jeongguk’s face flashing before his eyes, curled up on the floor of the cave.

The sounds of fighting are coming closer and closer to the cave and between Jimin’s terror and the slow erosion of his ability to think for himself, he finds himself slipping toward the call of unconsciousness. His belly clenches in need and Jimin tightens his grip on Jeongguk’s jeogori, his nails digging into his palms through the fabric painfully. No matter how much he wants to bury his fingers into himself, he can’t.

“Jeongguk,” he says, his tongue slurring the alpha’s name. “Alpha…please…”

Someone is growling just outside of the cave, the sound of teeth snapping echoing into the cave. Jimin thinks he sees a blur of grey bolt inside followed by a much larger mass of black entangled with shades of brown. They’re embroiled in a fight, Jeongguk attempting to pin down one of the rogues while the others' red eyes find Jimin.

He curls into himself, wishing he could bury into the ground and escape but the rogue is on him in seconds, its fetid scent immediately making Jimin nauseous. He barely has the energy to lift his arms up and cover his neck, screaming when he feels teeth sink into his arm, tearing through his skin.

A snarl booms through the room and Jimin is so disoriented and panicked that he can’t tell who or where it’s coming from. He tries to shove the alpha climbing on top of him away, but its behaviour is so erratic that Jimin can barely keep it from his neck. 

Drool drips down onto him, the alpha’s breath reeking of blood, and Jimin can’t stop sobbing, his vision so blurry he can’t see anything.

There’s a loud thud from somewhere to his left, the alpha above him growling violently at Jimin’s continued resistance. Just as he worms his head under Jimin’s arm, teeth bared, the entirety of his weight is flung off of Jimin and he comes face to face with Jeongguk’s wolf, blood dripping from his mouth.

Relief floods through Jimin so quickly it feels like a physical blow, his breathing coming in rapid, short bursts. He can barely get the words out but he has to thank Jeongguk. “A-alpha…”

Jeongguk’s scent spikes dangerously, his head turning back around. The wolf who’d attacked Jimin is flanked by a second one, practically frothing at the mouth in its haste to get to Jimin. Jeongguk looks down at Jimin, eyes flashing red, and Jimin will never be able to recall if he bared his throat first or if Jeongguk leaned in to bite him.

But he will never forget the sensation of Jeongguk’s teeth sinking into him, the pain he had expected to feel never coming. Jimin’s mind goes blank, a white light scorching through him and tethering him to a single point: Jeongguk. 

His body goes slack, hands curling into Jeongguk’s fur, pulling him in closer.

Jimin’s world tilts into bliss, his omega greedily accepting Jeongguk’s claim. He feels Jeongguk pull back, feels the warmth of his tongue lapping at the bite he’s left.

And then, black.

Jimin hisses, pain radiating from his back in one burning stripe after the other. Unconsciousness clings to his eyelids, refusing to let him wake fully but the pain is so intense, Jimin thinks he may throw up.

His heat has left his body ravaged, exhaustion etched bone deep within him. An especially strong burst of pain has Jimin flinching awake, sweat dripping down from his temple. He blinks, groggy and disoriented, mouth dry.

Another lash of pain cuts into him and Jimin cries out, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t understand what’s going on but there is a fury bubbling through him, coiling tighter and tighter, iron hot. Jimin finds himself panting, attempting to steady not only his emotions but his ability to bear the pain.

His neck is aching, too, and when he reaches to touch the skin, heat radiates from the bandaged wound. Except it’s not a wound.

It’s a mating bite.

Jimin’s heart stops, the memory of Jeongguk’s teeth sinking into him jolting through him viscerally. He can feel the teeth sinking into his neck, recalls the way his body had gone soft and pliant, Jeongguk’s scent the only thing he could taste or smell. He’d never felt such a sensation of bliss, the heat and panic and fear all melting away to nothing.

Where is Jeongguk? Jimin asks himself, glancing around his empty room. How did I even get here?

He’s not falling asleep again, the pain in his back yanking him to wakefulness. He’s been left alone in his room, the windows closed shut but he can make out the sound of rain pitter pattering against the roof, the scent of wet earth permeating through the air. Someone has taken the liberty to dress him and tend to his wounds. There are bandages wrapped around his forearm where that rogue had bitten into him and he can feel the bandages wrapped around his torso, too. Jimin’s heat seems to be subdued, as well, despite the fact that he’d hardly come or been fucked.

Maybe the healers had given him something? Or had the bond settled it?

Another searing welt seems to burn into his skin and Jimin hisses, sucking in a choking breath to manage it. It doesn’t make sense. Why was his back hurting —

Jimin’s eyes widen, the blood draining from his face.

He scrambles up to his feet, tossing his blanket aside and rushes toward the bedroom door, sliding it open. It’s pouring outside, the lamps hanging by his parents’ room are lit, confirming that it isn’t so late in the day that they’ve gone to bed. He doesn’t remember how or when he got back home.

His last memory is of Jeongguk taking mercy on him and biting him, the warmth of the bond carrying him away to safety. He’d let go so entirely, his very being trusting that Jeongguk would protect him and take care of him. Jimin hasn’t even known Jeongguk a day.

Where are you? He wonders despondently. There’s only one reason Jimin is feeling pain that isn’t his.

Someone is hurting Jeongguk and the bond is telling him to go and find his mate, to protect him. Judging by the repeated lashes across his back, Jeongguk is being whipped.

Jimin hardly remembers to tug on his boots before he’s running out into the rain, uncaring of how quickly it soaks through his jeogori or how he’s forgotten his outer robe. The rain is a welcome relief to the hours he spent burning with fever.

He needs to get to Yoongi or perhaps his Aunt Myunghee, to get some answers about how he’d been brought here and where Jeongguk is. Had they taken him to the holding cells? Had they decided to punish him without so much as confirming what had happened with Jimin? Everyone was owed a fair trial.

The thought is unacceptable. Jeongguk had saved his life.

And now Jimin is repaying his kindness by putting him in danger. He pushes himself to go faster, ignoring the various aches and pains that rise up in protest throughout his body. He’s been through enough, wishes more than anything that he could sleep the next few days away but it appears that no one is going to allow him a moment’s respite.

He rounds the corner to the town square, wondering where everyone is, the streets empty. Rain has never put a stop to getting through the day’s errands before.

All of Jimin’s questions are answered when he sees the large crowd congregated in the town square. Half the pack must be gathered here despite the downpour, all of them huddling together to stay warm. They’ve all swarmed around the raised platform at the centre of the square, a handful of people standing on top of it.

The platform is reserved for pack announcements, religious ceremonies, and the occasional performance or celebratory dance. Today, Jimin finds it has been put to use to carry out a public humiliation.

They’ve forced Jeongguk down onto his knees near the front, his wrists chained together in front of him. Most horrifying of all, they’ve placed a muzzle over his mouth as if he were some kind of wild dog. Behind him stands a row of guards, the brown of their armour glistening from the rivulets of rainwater that wash down the leather.

His expression is stone-cold, the rain having plastered his hair to the sides of his face. His jeogori is a mess, sliding down from his shoulders, bloodied ends clinging to his body. Jimin can smell the blood in the air, can see it dribbling down from the platform in streaks of red. It feels like he can’t breathe, something heavy and unbearable slamming down against his chest.

What have they done to him?

The bond is stretched so taut, Jeongguk’s suffering and fury pouring into Jimin like a flood, a monstrous calamity incapable of being tamed. Jimin can feel the sting of his tears as they fall, mixing with the relentless torrent of rain drenching him through.

Their eyes meet, Jimin taking a step forward and then another. Jeongguk’s expression is unreadable. The bond is the only indication that he has recognized Jimin at all, that he is surprised to see him.

“Your silence will not save you. Admit what you have done!” A voice cuts through the deluge of rainfall, a voice that Jimin would recognize anywhere. The brittle, scathing tone, always so snide, so haughty. The voice of Elder Kim.

Jimin spots her standing at one end of the platform, her hands clasped behind her back, beady eyes fixed on Jeongguk. Next to her, Jimin spots Kang Yonghan, a nasty sneer stretched across his face. He nods at one of the guards and Jimin watches as the guard steps forward, his arm raising with the whip in hand.

The guard brings the whip down in a crisp, swift hit, the sound echoing through the crowd and Jimin chokes on the pain that radiates through him, eyes watering at how it burns and burns and burns. He struggles to breathe for a moment, watches as Jeongguk straightens out, head still held high. 

He doesn’t make a sound.

The guard raises his arm again, preparing to whip Jeongguk again.

Jimin feels a rage so singular in that moment that he sees red, the desire to rip Yonghan and that guard from limb from limb erupting through him until he’s charging forward, ripping through the crowd like a wild animal on a rampage.

The world narrows down to the whip in the guard’s hand and Jimin lets out a furious roar, a sound so terrifying he’s surprised it’s come out of him at all. “Enough!”

The guard is blinking back surprise but he’s already brought the whip down and it’s too late to pull back, only some of the momentum lost to his astonishment. Jimin jumps onto the platform and catches it in the bare palm of his hand. Fire blazes through his arm from the sharp sting, his skin smarting from the lash.

“How fucking dare you!” Jimin snarls, snatching the whip right out of the guard’s grasp. He tosses it aside with such a vengeance that it goes skittering right off of the platform, clattering to the ground.

The crowd gasps behind him, their silence broken as Jimin puts an end to the spectacle. The bell tolls seven times, ringing through the village, marking an end to this grotesque demonstration. All around them, people are stunned, shocked whispers echoing through the crowd. 

Jimin moves to check on Jeongguk who is still kneeling somehow and nearly staggers back when he sees the horror that greets him.

Jeongguk’s back has been shredded, torn open from so many lashes that blood runs freely down. The white of his pants has been soaked through, his jeogori ripped apart and left hanging in two. Jimin’s knees nearly give out, so shocked by the savagery, unable to understand how anyone could be so cruel. He can’t believe Jeongguk is still upright.

“What have you done,” Jimin chokes out, his hands trembling as they reach out for Jeongguk.

“Park Jimin!” Elder Kim exclaims, looking not just surprised but also annoyed by Jimin’s arrival, always so entitled to her righteousness. “What — what are you doing! Get away from him!”

Jimin ignores her entirely, cradling Jeongguk as carefully as he can and guiding his head to rest carefully in the curve of his shoulder. Jeongguk is heavy, his body stiff from the cold, but this close Jimin can feel the tremor running through him. His hand twists into Jeongguk’s hair, squeezing the alpha to him, scent seeping into the air to provide comfort, to soothe, to do anything at all.

Jimin can’t cry but he wants to. 

His hands shake as they undo the clasp holding the muzzle in place, his mind incapable of fathoming what Jeongguk could have done to deserve such a humiliation. What had these two said to convince anyone to put something so archaic on him? Muzzles were outlawed, just as branding marks on omegas and betas were.

He throws the thing away as soon as he manages to pull it off of Jeongguk’s face, nearly scenting Jeongguk right then and there. How could they do this? How could they do this to his mate?

Yonghan is moving toward him, screaming something but Jimin is so focused on Jeongguk he can’t parse out his words. He glances into the crowd, desperately looking for a familiar face, for someone who will help him and then he spots Yoongi. His friend is standing on guard just below the platform and whatever he sees on Jimin’s face is enough to move him forward before he’s abandoning his post and coming to stand between Jimin and Yonghan.

“Take a step back,” Yoongi commands, his voice ironclad. 

“You are endangering — ”

“I said, take a step back,” Yoongi snarls, the viciousness with which he says it nearly making Jimin shrink back. Yonghan looks furious, ready to shove Yoongi aside.

“Is there,” Jimin starts, too quiet. He clears his throat, can’t afford to let his own despair hold him back from helping Jeongguk. He calls out much stronger, firmer, “Is there a healer? Anyone?”

Someone pushes through the crowd, reaching the forefront, and Jimin doesn’t recognize her but she climbs the platform, kneeling next to Jimin. She promptly feels for a pulse along Jeongguk’s throat, Jimin angling back to give her a little more space. He’s not sure Jeongguk is even conscious anymore, his eyes shut, and his breathing so shallow Jimin can barely feel the rise and fall of his chest.

“We’ll need a stretcher,” she tells Jimin, assessing the wounds on Jeongguk’s back next. Her expression is one of grim determination. She removes her own outer robe and drapes it over Jeongguk’s back. It’s already wet but Jimin supposes this is still better than allowing rain to continuously pour onto Jeongguk’s open wounds. “It’ll be difficult to carry him out otherwise.”

“Go,” Jimin tells her, nodding in the direction of the infirmary. She runs off immediately and Jimin looks back toward Yoongi and Yonghan, both looking ready to throw a punch any second now.

“What is the meaning of this!” Elder Kim’s shrill voice interjects. “This rogue has broken into our pack, has — has attempted to abduct you, Park Jimin, and you — ”

“Yoongi, hyung,” Jimin calls, ignoring Elder Kim again. He can feel the blood racing to his head, fury building in him like a forest fire eating everything in its path. 

Yoongi turns toward Jimin and he motions for him to come closer. He lifts Jeongguk gently and Yoongi understands, kneeling down to take hold of Jeongguk’s slumped body. Jimin has to swallow back the tears that threaten to fall, the bond thinning at the back of his mind.

“Come to your senses!” Elder Kim exclaims, shortening the distance between them. She keeps looking between Jimin and the crowd and he realises this is the first time she has really had the pack as an audience to her behaviour. “This rogue has marked you, has forced his claim on you! And you protect him?”

He can taste her anxiety, her reluctance but she won’t back down, not when she is so convinced that Jimin needs to be knocked down entirely.

He stands up, pushing his wet hair out of his face and faces her directly. “On whose fucking authority,” he seethes, voice shaking with barely suppressed rage, “did you decide to whip him publicly?” 

He feels insane, capable of such violence that he can hardly stand to look at her. Homicidal rage froths through him, his omega screaming at him to attack her, to rip her throat out for hurting their mate. Vivid images of Jimin launching himself upon her flash behind his eyes, as relentless as the torrent of rain.

“The punishment for any rogue intruding onto pack territory is twenty lashes,” Yonghan answers, quick to come to Elder Kim’s defence. “This one has done worse.”

“Was I talking to you?” Jimin snaps with such force that even Yonghan looks alarmed, his eyes widening at Jimin’s aggression. He’s quick to school his features back to his usual condescending sneer but he doesn't dare utter another word.

“The Council is — ”

“The Council? The Council has never had the authority to make final judgement. It rests solely with your Pack Omega.” Jimin doesn’t care if interrupting her is rude. He doesn’t care that half the pack will see him like this, completely at the mercy of his emotions. He takes one single step in her direction, his body trembling with insurmountable rage. “It seems you have forgotten yourself, Elder Kim. Are you the Council alone? Or do you claim to be Pack Leader now, too?”

“This rogue has — ”

“Answer the fucking question!”

She sucks in a breath, startled, and just as Jimin knew she would, starts rambling with excuses, her chin protruding outwards defensively. “In your absence, I — We, that is Commander Kang and I — an example must be made of a trespasser and a filthy rogue! How — how dare you speak to me like I am the one — ”

“An example?” Jimin cuts in, his hands curling into fists. “An example for who? Who here is a rogue?”

“This rogue was caught carrying you into the village — ”

“And what was your guard doing when this rogue managed to slip past them?” Jimin sneers, turning his wrath on Yonghan. He should have known.

He should have known that it’d be these two working together to get rid of him, always undermining him, never thinking he was enough. But to go this far?

“Jimin!”

Jimin turns toward whoever’s called him and finds his mother rushing toward the platform. The crowd parts to allow her to run in and Jimin is surprised to see his Aunt Eunhae and his cousin Hoseok both following after her. On their tail is Taehyung and Namjoon, both flushed from exertion.

The whole pack seems to have poured into the town square but the square is incapable of holding everyone. Jimin can see people cramming into the streets, craning to see what all the commotion is about. The rain has only kept them inside for so long, curiosity luring them out.

So be it.

Jimin turns to Elder Kim once more, a calm settling over him. The rain continues to pour down, battering Jimin with its insistence. “You are hereby removed from your position as Elder effective immediately. You have abused your position of honour and where you should have exerted wisdom, where you should have extended mercy, you have shown inhumane cruelty. Until a full review of your actions can be taken by myself, your Pack Omega, and the Council you will be placed under house arrest.”

Jimin motions for the few patrol guards standing on the platform to apprehend her and when they hesitate, glancing between Jimin and Yonghan, Yoongi barks at them. “Did you not hear your Pack Omega?”

They scramble forward at Yoongi’s command, two of them taking her by one arm each. Elder Kim stares at him bewildered and at a loss for words. A first for her. Like a fish out of water her mouth opens and closes and were Jimin not so angry, he’d find it hilarious.

“Jimin, you…” his mother trails behind him, a hand resting against his shoulder. He ignores her concern, her worry that he has acted out of his own authority. Her scent attempts to surround him in an effort to comfort but he turns his attention instead to Yonghan.

“Commander Kang, the patrol guard has failed to protect our borders and moreover, has failed to protect me. Where are the other rogues that actually attacked me?”

“What are you talking about? What other rogues? He is the only one!”

“He,” Jimin announces, talking over Yonghan’s barking, “is my mate.”

Jimin ignores the pack’s collective gasp and his mother’s scent sharpening in alarm. The bond thrums at his declaration and for a moment, Jimin feels grounded. He continues, never breaking eye contact with Yongan. “He is the reason I wasn’t abducted by the four rogues your guard let in and now you tell me that you don’t even know about them. Is this how you lead the patrol? Is our safety a game you play with yourself?”

“I have been nothing but loyal and dedicated to this pack,” Yonghan argues, his voice rising above the din of the crowd. “This rogue you are protecting was found in the middle of the woods alone, attempting to abduct you.”

Jimin knows Yonghan is lying but if he is going to get rid of him, he needs to make sure the pack sees him for what he is: an incompetent, brutish asshole. He’d reveal the depth of Yonghan’s betrayal once he’d ensured Jeongguk’s well-being.

“And did you ask him what had happened before deciding he needed to be whipped to death?”

“Why would we trust the words of a rogue?”

Jimin nods, unsurprised by Yonghan’s answer. The wind whips through them, pelting Jimin in the face with raindrops.

“Elder Pil,” he calls out, waiting for the man to step out of the crowd. He does, rather quickly, bowing to Jimin when he climbs on top of the platform. 

“Yes, Omega Park.”

“I believe it is your right to strip Kang Yonghan of his title,” Jimin says, the cold of the weather and Jimin’s arduous day beginning to catch up with him once more. “He has failed his responsibility to this pack and has brought danger within our borders. He has stepped outside of his authority to levy out a punishment with no trial and no witnesses. See to it and get me a list of candidates for his replacement as soon as possible.”

“Yes, immediately, Omega Park,” Elder Pil agrees, turning toward Yonghan. The crowd erupts into turmoil again, alarmed but Jimin doesn’t care. He has too many balls in the air to worry about public perception of him. Once Jeongguk is safe, Jimin would have one of the administrators make an announcement explaining everything.

Yonghan screams out some obscenity but Jimin turns to the crowd, calling out one of the captains he trusts that is under Yonghan’s command. “Where is Alpha Kim Seokjin?”

“He is on border duty, Omega Park,” one of the guard’s answers. Jimin glances at Yoongi to confirm who gives him a quick nod. 

“Please have him brought to me immediately,” Jimin orders to the guard who sets off. He needs someone to task with locating the remaining rogues and while he could ask Yoongi to go — he had the rank of a captain, too — he’s already disrupted the pack’s order enough today. Any further action perceived as favouritism on his part would only make public opinion of him worsen and he can’t afford to lose their trust. Seokjin is well favoured among the pack, competent and charming. He would be perfect.

Finally, Jimin is able to bring his attention back to Jeongguk. He needs to ensure that Jeongguk is treated immediately before dealing with the pack. Elder Kim and Kang Yonghan were both well regarded in the pack, explaining himself would not be easy, no matter how obviously cruel they had been.

His friends and family have thankfully looked after him, a stretcher brought in by the healer who had answered Jimin’s call earlier. Yoongi has picked up one end of the stretcher and Namjoon stands at the other. The healer mentions getting Jeongguk to the infirmary as quickly as possible and Jimin almost bares his teeth, despising the idea.

“No!” Jimin says sharply, striding to Jeongguk’s side. There is no reason to have Jeongguk moved to the infirmary where anyone could hurt him again. “He can be attended to in my room. My cousin is a healer.”

“I — But he needs — ” the healer stutters, words dying on her tongue when she sees the glare Jimin shoots at her. “Yes, Omega Park. Whatever you’d prefer.”

“Hoseok-hyung, can you please attend to him?” Jimin asks, quieter, his eyes falling back on Jeongguk’s prone body. What had they done to him?

The bond throbs painfully and it feels as though every time his heart beats, Jimin’s chest squeezes down on it so tightly, it may stop in his chest altogether. His body is aching, vision threatening to blur for the hundredth time today.

“Of course, Jimin,” Hoseok assures, giving Jimin’s arm a squeeze. He’s upset he missed his aunt and cousin’s arrival but the relief of seeing them here is indescribable. 

Hoseok nudges Yoongi to move and they set off, Taehyung lingering behind for Jimin. It pains Jimin to let them leave but he has a whole pack staring at him, waiting for answers. Jimin is about to turn to them when his mother shakes her head.

“Go, your mate needs you,” she tells him, guiding Jimin to Taehyung. “Your aunt and I will take care of this.”

“Thank-you, Eomma,” Jimin says, too readily perhaps. He’s just so tired and his back throbs with every breath he takes, his hands and feet numb from the prolonged exposure to the rain and cold.

Taehyung doesn’t let them waste any more time, an arm wrapping tightly around Jimin’s waist to guide him back home. He’s not sure how long he keeps his eyes open but at some point, he’s pretty sure Taehyung is half-carrying him.

They make it halfway there when Taehyung finally manages to get a word out, his voice coming out small and scared. “What happened, Jimin?”

It all feels a little anticlimactic now. The rage Jimin had felt has whittled down and he is left only with his battered and bruised body, fatigue wearing him down.

“I’ll explain when we get back. To everyone.”

“Is he really…?”

“Yes, he’s my mate.” Jimin doesn’t add that he hasn’t bitten Jeongguk in return or that he’d lied and told Jeongguk it would be temporary. He has no idea how much Jeongguk knows about bonds or how they are treated by rogues.

The only stories anyone ever told were the ones about rogue alphas abducting omegas from their homes in the dead of the night and forcefully bonding them. It was rare for omegas to survive packless — not because of some deficiency in their skill level to survive but because they would almost always be attacked by a rogue alpha or beta, eager to have children of their own.

Packless omegas were almost always willing to join a new pack to avoid such a fate.

“I let you out of my sight for one day,” Taehyung mumbles and Jimin can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him, however weak and pathetic.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” he replies cheekily and Taehyung scowls, his expression wobbling quickly into despair. Suddenly, Jimin is being squeezed into a hug, Taehyung stifling his sniffles and cries as best he can.

“Don’t you dare,” he exclaims wetly, pulling back when Jimin winces at a particularly hard squeeze. “I’ve been worried sick all day.”

“I know,” Jimin smiles, reaching up to pat Taehyung’s cheek. “Things could be worse. I could have a Harvest Festival to host in a month. Oh wait.”

“I can’t believe you’re making jokes right now,” Taehyung grumbles, scenting the inside of Jimin’s wrist, almost as if he needs the comfort more. Jimin takes his hand in his.

“Do you want me to cry instead?”

“No…” he replies, sounding like an admonished child.

Jimin laughs, the sound barely coming out of him, but thankful nonetheless that Taehyung has somehow managed to alleviate some of his misery. “Come on, let’s get home and get out of this rain. I need to check on Jeongguk.”

By the time they make it back to the house, the rain has slowed down to a drizzle. 

Yoongi is standing right by the front gate, his arms crossed over his chest, wound up tighter than a clock. Jimin can tell he’s one breath away from furiously pacing back and forth, utterly unbothered by the rain. The second he spots them, he comes rushing over, expression a cross between relief and irate concern, his scent permeating the air sharply despite the rain. Jimin prepares for the onslaught of questions, for Yoongi’s rage, stepping away from Taehyung to put some space between the two of them.

None come.

Instead, Yoongi pulls him into a crushing hug, a hand cradling the back of Jimin’s neck and squeezing tight. Jimin blinks through his surprise, arms reaching up to return the hug too slow, dazed as he is, face burying into Yoongi’s shoulder.

“We couldn't find you for hours,” Yoongi says, a pained inflection to his words. Jimin thinks he may be crying. “I thought —  I thought — ”

“I’m okay,” Jimin assures, rubbing Yoongi’s back. It’s unlike Yoongi to be this forward about his feelings, but Jimin appreciates it, especially over the interrogation he thought was coming his way. Just as quickly as he’d initiated the hug, Yoongi is taking a step back. He reaches for Jimin’s shoulders, pushing him back roughly as he holds him still.

His expression is grim, hardening into a scowl. “How are you okay? You’re telling us you’re mated and to a rogue no less! Did he force — ”

“Can we get inside?” Taehyung cuts in, glaring at Yoongi. They’re always rather prone to squabbling and Jimin can tell Taehyung is only holding back for Jimin’s sake. “Jimin is shivering and it’s cold.”

Yoongi seems to remember they’re still outside, standing in the rain. Jimin understands, he’s already soaked through, what was a little more? But he wants to go inside and see Jeongguk, to confirm with his own eyes that he’s okay. The bond is still thrumming inside of him, albeit weaker now that Jeongguk doesn’t seem to be conscious.

“We took him to your room as you wanted,” Yoongi says, letting Jimin go. The three of them set off in the direction of Jimin’s room, hurrying to get under the cover of the awning.

“Who did you leave with Appa?” Jimin directs the question at Taehyung, assuming that he’d been the one to rush home and bring his mother.

“Healer Yoo had come by to check on him and restock his medications,” Taehyung answers, sliding the door to Jimin’s room open.

Jimin half expects the room to be just as chaotic as the day’s events but Hoseok directs the two other healers in the room like a war commander, his instructions clear and direct. They have Jeongguk lying on Jimin’s sleeping mat face down, completely dried off despite being in varying degrees of wet themselves. One of the healer’s has placed a bowl of clean, warm water next to Jeongguk and is steadfastly wiping away at the open wounds on Jeongguk’s back, his touch delicate.

They’ve lit the four lamps to keep the room well lit, even bringing two of the outside lamps in. The room smells like blood and burning oil, and Jimin’s chest aches, suddenly missing Jeongguk’s sweet amber scent.

“Jimin,” Hoseok greets, his smile rather strained. “This is quite the welcome you’ve given me.”

“I’m sorry hyung,” Jimin murmurs, noting that Hoseok’s clothes are almost as bad as Jimin’s own. “Let me get you something dry to wear.”

Jimin moves toward one of his trunks so he can pull out clean, dry clothes for Hoseok. The two other healers are relatively dry, likely having come from the infirmary, but Jimin notes that the healer who had helped him out in the town square is missing.

“Where did the other healer go?” Jimin asks, offering the dry clothes to Hoseok. He’s so focused on assessing the severity of Jeongguk’s wounds that he doesn’t notice until Jimin gives him a small nudge. He smiles gratefully, taking the clothes and stands up so that he can change. There is still water dripping from his hair and Jimin hurries to get him a drying cloth, wondering how they’d dried Jeongguk down so quickly.

“We need more supplies,” one of the healer’s answers, and then she realises it’s Jimin who’s asked, her eyes widening. She bows, scent spiking in panic. “Omega Park.”

Jimin nods, too tired to be concerned with formalities, returning his attention to Hoseok. “Is he going to be okay? How many times did they…”

“One hundred,” Yoongi answers, watching as Hoseok moves to the partition in the corner of Jimin’s room to change. Jimin hands him a drying cloth before giving one to Yoongi and Taehyung each. He’s run out and doesn’t have one for himself but there are more in his parents’ room. “I don’t believe they actually reached one hundred but they were hardly keeping track.”

“One hundred lashes,” Jimin repeats, swallowing the burning rage that scorches up his throat. “How did they think he’d survive that?”

“I don’t think they were too concerned with his survival,” Hoseok murmurs, having returned from changing.

The breath stutters as it leaves Jimin’s lungs, his chest constricting painfully. They could have killed him. Jimin’s mate could have died before Jimin even got to know him.

“You need to dry off,” Taehyung tells him, pushing him toward the partition with a clean, dry pair of clothes. He hands Jimin back the drying cloth he’d given him, glaring when Jimin attempts to push it back into his hands. “I’ll go get more from the supply room. Your bandages need to be changed, too. They’re soaked.”

“Thank you,” Jimin murmurs, both touched and a little embarrassed to be taken care of yet again. “There are more in my parents’ room, too.”

“Got it.” Taehyung nods, heading toward the door. Namjoon, who had been relegated to stand in a corner out of everyone’s way, follows after Taehyung and they both leave the room. Jimin motions to Yoongi to take dry clothes for himself from Jimin’s trunk, too, before peeling off his own wet clothes.

As he finishes changing, the drying cloth wrapped over his neck, he takes a moment to be grateful to be in dry clothes. His bandages are wet but he’d get them changed later. He moves out from behind the changing partition to give Yoongi the privacy to dry off and change as well.

The healer from the town square has joined them, having brought a basket full of supplies with her. Jimin’s not really sure how much work they have ahead of them but they seem to be quite adept at managing their tasks. Hoseok has already begun stitching salvageable skin.

“Is he — ”

“Jimin, it’s probably best we leave them to it. Come on,” Yoongi says from behind him, nudging Jimin toward his bedroom’s door. He reluctantly leaves, knows that the healers need to focus and that his questions will only be an added nuisance. But his heart squeezes painfully in his chest, leaving Jeongguk like this, the bond tugging at him to go to his mate.

The mating mark on his neck is pulsing again, a deep, primal need to be near Jeongguk nearly stripping Jimin of what little sense he has left.

Jimin slumps against the wall outside his room, sliding down until he’s sitting, knees drawn to his chest, head in his hands. His heat is most definitely gone and Jimin concludes it must be from the bite. He’ll have to ask Healer Yoo to be sure but why else would his symptoms be gone already?

Yoongi slides the door shut and stares down at Jimin. It’s still raining but there’s barely even a drizzle now. The lamps outside his parents’ room are beginning to dim, the oil running low. Jimin should go over and add more but he’s so tired, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand up again.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Yoongi asks, taking a seat down next to him. Jimin leans into him, letting his head rest against Yoongi’s shoulder. Without his armour on, Jimin can breathe in his minty scent without the accompanying leather. His shoulder is firmer, he’s gained weight — muscle — since joining the guard. Jimin remembers how bony he used to be as a teenager.

“Wait until Taehyung and Namjoon are here, too,” Jimin answers quietly. Yoongi has taken his hand, drawing it into his lap and squeezing it tightly. “I don’t want to explain it over and over.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agrees easily, holding back for Jimin’s sake. Jimin watches his father’s room, the lamp light slowly dimming.

“You were right about me needing a personal guard,” Jimin says, hoping to make the atmosphere a little lighter, to maybe stroke Yoongi’s ego.

Yoongi doesn’t sound even slightly happy when he answers. “I wish I wasn’t.”

They slip into silence, the rain having come to a stop. Jimin watches Taehyung move from the supply room to his parents’ room, an earthenware container in his hands. Taehyung takes the two lanterns hanging from the awning down and pours oil into each of them before hanging them back up. They brighten considerably. He’s given the extra drying clothes to Namjoon and sent him in the direction of Jimin’s room and Jimin notices that Namjoon is also bringing two more lanterns their way.

He should be the one taking care of everyone, guilt scratching at him to move. Jimin shifts, sitting up straighter. He should make everyone tea, help them warm up.

“Stay put,” Yoongi instructs him and Jimin’s mouth twists into a scowl, brows furrowing.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, attempting to tug his hand away. Yoongi doesn’t let go, unsurprisingly.

“I already did.”

“Come on, we should make tea.”

“No one is expecting you to do anything. You’ve done enough,” Yoongi scolds but he does pull away from the wall, his eyes falling toward the front gate. Jimin follows, spots the glow of lanterns a little ways off. “That must be Seokjin.”

“Can you smell him from here?” Jimin knows he shouldn’t tease Yoongi like this, not when Yoongi is still very deeply in denial about his rather obvious crush on the other alpha but he considers the teasing his right as Yoongi’s best friend. 

“What?” Jimin doesn’t miss the hint of panic entering Yoongi’s otherwise sharp retort.

“You just sounded so sure,” Jimin says, lilting his voice with innocence. “ Couldn’t it just be Eomma and Aunty Eunhae?”

“Brat,” Yoongi says with a scowl, purposefully squeezing Jimin’s hand too tight. He winces a little too dramatically and Yoongi immediately looks horrified, letting his hand go entirely. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Jimin laughs, showing Yoongi his other hand, the injured one. He waves the fingers of his good hand for effect, grinning, relishing the moment of delight. “This one’s not hurt.”

“Brat,” Yoongi repeats with much more emphasis.

“Uh, can someone open the door for me?”

Jimin jolts in surprise, twisting around to find Namjoon standing outside of his room’s door. His hands are decidedly full, a small jar sitting on top of the pile of drying cloths he has loaded up in his arms. 

“Oh, shit, sorry, Joon,” Yoongi says, rising to his feet in haste. He slides the door open and Jimin lets out a groan, preparing himself to stand up, too. He can’t tell what doesn’t hurt at this point, wonders if one of the healers can give him something to feel less like he's been given a good beating.

Jimin takes a few steps toward the front gate, spotting the outline of five people. He suspects a few guards have come with his mother and aunt, perhaps even Seokjin.

“How’s he holding up?” Namjoon asks, barely above a whisper. He’s probably hoping Jimin doesn’t hear him, voice pitched quite low, but his efforts are in vain. Jimin stills, reaching up to grasp one of the hooks he hangs a lantern from. 

Yoongi nudges Namjoon into the room, glancing back at Jimin. He gives Namjoon a shake of his head and they disappear inside. 

Jimin stares at his hand, ignoring the way his back pulses, Hoseok’s needle working through Jeongguk’s skin to put him back together. Jeongguk must not know how to stop the bond from pouring all of his feelings and sensations through. Or maybe there was nothing to be done when a person was unconscious. 

“Eomma,” Jimin greets, stepping down from under the awning to greet her. She’s the first through the gate, her expression lighting up at the sight of him. She looks tired but so grateful to see Jimin that his heart aches. The relief is mirrored in him.

“Jimin,” she breathes out, hurrying over to him. Just as she’s about to pull him into a hug she pauses, realising that she’s drenched and Jimin is clearly not. She opts for taking his face in her hands and bringing it closer so she can scent him and press a kiss to his cheek and then his forehead. “Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?” She sounds breathless, looking him over. “What…what have they done to you?”

“It could be much worse,” Jimin assures, squeezing her hands between his own. His mother is unconvinced but she doesn’t argue, her expression still twisted with concern. He takes note of his aunt behind his mother, a lantern in her hand. He notices then that Aunt Myunghee has come too, Seokjin and the guard Jimin had instructed earlier bringing up the rear of their small group. “How did everything go? How is the pack?”

“Confused but they trust you,” she answers, her warm scent wrapping around Jimin. “Your Aunt Myunghee was a great help, too.”

“Thank-you, Aunty,” Jimin says, offering her a smile in gratitude. 

She returns the smile, nodding. “That’s what I’m here for. We’ll need to call for a Council meeting as soon as possible to sort everything out but it’s been a long day. Everyone needs some rest so I am sure arranging it for tomorrow morning will be fine.”

“I’ll have someone let all the Council members know,” Jimin agrees, noting the slight tremble in his mother’s hands. “You should all get dried up and change, I’ll get everyone some tea.”

His mother nods, ushering everyone toward the house. Both his aunts give his arm a squeeze as they follow after her, Myunghee relatively dry but reeking of the kitchens as she passes Jimin.

Seokjin and the guard do not follow, waiting patiently for further direction from Jimin.

“Omega Park,” they both greet, bowing. Seokjin continues, “You asked for me?”

“Alpha Kim,” Jimin says, returning the bow.

“Seokjin is fine, Omega Park.”

“I may be Pack Leader but you’re still older, hyung,” Jimin smiles, turning his attention momentarily to the guard. “I’m so sorry to ask this of you but would you mind letting all the Council members know of tomorrow morning’s meeting. Please ask them to meet me in the town hall by nine.”

“It’s my pleasure, Omega Park,” the guard says, bowing. She straightens out, her alpha scent prickling against Jimin’s nose. “I…I hope your mate’s condition improves.”

Jimin blinks back his surprise, grateful for her consideration. “Thank-you, that’s very kind of you.”

She takes her leave after that, disappearing out of Jimin’s family’s courtyard. He waits until he thinks Seokjin and him are alone before motioning for Seokjin to follow him. Yoongi and Namjoon are both standing outside of his room, watching them.

“I’m going to make tea,” Jimin tells them, heading toward the kitchen. A plume of smoke greets them from the kitchen chimney, advising Jimin that Taehyung is already there. Yoongi understands to follow, bringing Namjoon along with him. 

The four of them walk to the kitchen in silence, Jimin glancing over his shoulder to see that they’re alone once he’s at the entrance. He wouldn’t have cared if his mother and aunts were with him but he can’t keep wasting time.

Taehyung looks surprised to find everyone here, eyeing everyone a little warily when they slip inside but he’s busy watching over a cauldron of boiling water, two teapots set out next to him on the floor.

“Are we having a party?” Taehyung asks, looking between the four of them.

Jimin ignores the poor attempt at a joke and turns his attention fully to Seokjin. “Alpha Kim, I need you to canvas the woods immediately. Take only the members of the guard you trust the most, no one who holds Kang in too high a regard. You can cross reference who you select with Yoongi-hyung, I trust his discernment. Jeongguk had taken me to a larger cave near the northern border, possibly even just an alcove. I would check there first and around the mountains near the hot springs.”

“What are we looking for, Omega Park?”

“The four rogues who attacked me. They’d been drugged, their ruts induced,” Jimin replies, jaw clenching when he feels an especially sharp pain cut through his back. He lets out a breath as it passes, wishing he could sit down. “Jeongguk fought with them so I’m not sure if they’re dead or alive but even a body would go a long way to showing Kang’s lack of regard.”

“Is Jeongguk included in the total?” Seokjin asks.

“Jeongguk didn’t attack me,” Jimin replies, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “And I’d appreciate it if you all stopped treating him like he did.”

Jimin doesn’t miss Seokin’s gaze drifting to the bandages along his neck, to his mating bite. Nor does he miss the way his friends all seem to tense at his words, their combined scents all bitter and overbearing in the four walls of the kitchen. 

“I apologise for overstepping, Omega Park.” Seokjin nods in understanding.

Jimin waves it off, explaining what he needs further. “I don’t know if you’ll find anyone truth be told. I know I haven’t explained everything but I have reason to believe that Kang was behind this attack and that members of the Patrol Guard are complicit. If he’s claiming no one else was found, then it’s likely the rogues either escaped or he’s disposed of them. This is why I ask for utmost caution and secrecy. No one must know of this search.”

“That son of a bitch!” Yoongi snarls, his fangs and claws extending from his mouth and hands as his alpha takes over. Jimin and Taehyung gag as his scent radiates his fury, sharpening to an almost putrid, rotting mint. Namjoon has to step between Yoongi and them, easing him down.

“This isn’t helpful,” Namjoon soothes, reaching out to Yoongi to calm him down. “Alpha Kim needs your help and so does Jimin.”

“The rogues were all in rut so I anticipate you can track down their scent trails and likely mine, too,” Jimin continues, directing his words to Seokjin and giving Yoongi the moment to reel in his anger.

“How will they find your scent among four alphas in rut?” Taehyung says from behind Jimin, the water at a boil. He’s poured it into the teapots, the scent of green tea slowly drifting into the room.

“I was in heat,” Jimin says slowly, fighting against the rush of shame that attempts to swallow him. It wasn’t your fault, he tells himself.

“What?” Taehyung snaps, rising from his seat. “Your last heat was barely three months ago!”

Jimin sighs, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He should probably explain everything so he can put a stop to all the shocked exclamations.

“Perhaps I should take my leave, Omega Park,” Seokjin offers, much better at reading the room than his friends. Well, maybe not Namjoon. He’s still helping Yoongi to calm down and now an agitated Taehyung has been added to the mix.

“One last thing,” Jimin says, reaching out to the alpha. He closes his hand around Seokjin’s wrist, recalling Jeongguk’s words. “They were kept at the old mill, when they were first brought here. Perhaps some of your men should investigate it first. Any evidence you find, please bring it back to me.”

“Understood.” Seokjin bows, placing a hand over Jimin’s. He looks upset, his own scent subdued, gaze flickering to the ground before meeting Jimin’s. “I would like to apologise on behalf of the Guard for allowing such harm to befall you, Omega Park. I promise, I will do my best.”

“Thank you Alpha Kim,” Jimin says quietly, attempting a smile. After everything he’s been through, months of doubt cast on his abilities, every assurance of his worth feels novel, almost too much.

“Seokjin-hyung is fine,” he grins, giving Jimin a conspiratory wink before slipping out of the kitchen. 

Yoongi follows after him, glancing back at Jimin when he stops in the door, his jaw clenched. Jimin will need to get him to promise not to kill Kang Yonghan at some point. “I’ll be right back.”

“Well, this has been an exciting day,” Namjoon says, rubbing his face in weariness. He’s been letting out a calming scent the entire time they’ve been in the kitchen, hoping to balance out the intensities of Yoongi and Taehyung’s anger.

“It still makes no sense that your heat came so early and right when you were attacked by rogues,” Taehyung says, bringing them back to Jimin’s earlier confession. Namjoon has wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hand rubbing up and down Taehyung’s arm.

“Wasn’t it obvious when you found me?” Jimin asks, looking between the two of them. “Who did find me?”

“Yoongi-hyung will know,” Namjoon answers, taking several tea cups and placing them on a serving plate. “Taehyung and I were busy looking for you in the village, we didn’t hear that you’d been found until they’d brought you to the house. By then, the healers were in the room with you tending to your wounds.”

Taehyung sets a teapot on each serving plate and pours a single cup out for Jimin first. “Here, drink this.”

Jimin takes the tea cup, relishing the warmth that spreads through his hands. He follows Namjoon and Taehyung through the kitchen door, his mind racing with questions. Who had found them then? 

He stops, watching steam rise from his tea cup.

“Who attended to me?”

“Healer Yoo, Healer Kim, and a younger girl, an apprentice perhaps?” Taehyung answers, pointing in the direction of Jimin’s parents’ room. Namjoon sets off, leaving Jimin alone with Taehyung. “Why?”

“The girl…what was her name?”

“I’ve no idea. I think she was Healer Yoo’s niece? She seemed quite familiar with her,” Taehyung says, waiting for Jimin to follow him. They walk back to Jimin’s room, spotting Seokjin and Yoongi by the front gate, likely finalising the list of guards they could rely on.

Jimin’s belly twists with suspicion but he doesn’t voice anything, doesn’t want to cast any stones before he knows anything with certainty. 

“It’s possible to induce a heat right, Taehyung?” 

Taehyung stops, his eyes wide when he looks back at Jimin. “As possible as it is to induce a rut.”

Someone had drugged him.

Jimin hadn’t even had anything to eat that morning. All he’d drank was the tea…

“The tea…The tea that Healer Yoo gave me,” Jimin says, his heart thumping loudly in his ears.

“She wouldn’t. She…she’s known us since we were pups.” Taehyung sounds as appalled, as betrayed at the idea as Jimin. His scent has grown cloudy, murky with distress.

“Kang had to be sure I’d go into heat,” Jimin says slowly, quietly, piecing everything together as he speaks. “He had to be sure that the rogues would sniff me out. He couldn’t…he couldn’t wait to attack me on the sliver of a chance that my heat would come publicly.”

How? How had he turned a healer against Jimin? Just how many people were involved in this scheme? Who was there left to trust?

“Jimin,” Taehyung starts but he doesn’t say more, the door to Jimin’s room sliding open. Light spills out into the night, Jeongguk’s scent reaching out to him. A healer stands in the door, a mere shadow as darkness obfuscates their features. Jimin rushes toward the room, tea spilling up and out of his cup and scalding his hand. It hardly matters, panic gripping Jimin so tightly he can’t focus on anything but Jeongguk.

He’d left Jeongguk in there with healers, healers he didn’t know, healers who were happy to hurt Jimin so why not Jeongguk?

“Jeongguk,” Jimin breathes out, pushing past the healer standing in the door. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

Hoseok looks momentarily surprised but meets Jimin halfway in his mad dash to be beside the rogue. “He’s okay, Jimin. Take a big breath for me, come on. One, two, three, four…and let it out. Five, six, seven, eight…”

It takes a moment for the panic to wane, for Jimin to bring his breathing back from the quick, sharp gasps he’d desperately been sucking into deeper lungfuls. Hoseok is practically rocking him back and forth near the end, Jimin tucked against his body.

“He’s going to be okay, Jimin,” Hoseok whispers to him, rubbing his back in reassurance. “He’s quite resilient. There’s been a significant amount of blood loss but we’ve managed to get him to drink some water and I bandaged him up myself.”

That’s right. Hoseok could be trusted. Hoseok is his cousin. He isn’t even from this pack, he has no reason to plot against Jimin, to wish such ill against him.

“What’s going on?” It’s Yoongi, back from sorting out the canvasing party with Seokjin. Jimin needs to get a hold of himself.

“If Jeongguk’s been taken care of, how about we let Jimin have a moment with him,” Taehyung says over the chaos in the room. “Alone. The healers can take some tea with us outside.”

The room empties but Hoseok stays, mostly because Jimin’s hands are fisted into the fabric of his jeogori, refusing to let him leave.

“What’s wrong?”

Jimin mouths the words right against Hoseok’s ear, voice practically non-existent, in the way he knows even the sharpest ears won’t catch. “I was drugged by someone in the pack. A healer.”

Hoseok’s body stiffens, his arms tightening around Jimin. “Do you know who?”

Jimin shakes his head and Hoseok’s scent smooths back out, the acrid tinge at Jimin’s confession softening back to something sweet and peachy in an attempt to soothe. “You were worried someone would hurt Jeongguk.”

Jimin nods, finally stepping out of Hoseok’s hold. He sucks in a breath, eyes finding Jeongguk’s prone body. His bandages are already bloody, Jimin’s blanket pulled up to his waist. Jimin walks over, kneeling down next to him, a hand pushing his long hair out of his face. He’s sticky with sweat and Jimin glances around, finds a bowl full of clean water and a leftover drying cloth.

He dips it into the water and gently wipes Jeongguk’s face clean, taking his hair and braiding it so that it would stay out of his face.

“He’s only been given water,” Hoseok says, taking a seat next to Jimin. “They’ve brought me some medicines to help him heal quicker and to rebuild his strength. Something for the fever, too, but I’ll give him only what I brought from my own pack and make everything else myself. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” Jimin says, blinking back tears. The bond mark pulses in time with the throbbing in his back, a reminder of just what Jimin has done to Jeongguk. “He was conscious enough to drink water?”

“There were a few moments, especially right when he was brought in.”

Jimin nods, amazed at Jeongguk’s strength. He shouldn’t be surprised, recalling how quickly Jimin had fallen to his knees and submitted when Jeongguk had given him a command. “How long will it take to recover?”

“Two weeks at minimum. Three to be safe,” Hoseok answers, noticing the smarting red mark on Jimin’s hand. He makes a noise of concern, taking Jimin’s hand in his own. “How did you manage this?”

“I panicked,” Jimin mumbles, allowing Hoseok to fuss over him. He rubs salve onto Jimin’s burn and then redoes all of Jimin’s bandages, reprimanding Jimin for not getting his bandages changed sooner. His skin has wrinkled underneath the wet bandages, the bite marks on his arms bleeding again.

Jimin’s father had once sliced his stomach open fighting off a wild cat, the injury nearly killing him. He’d been twelve at the time, unable to hold back his tears as he’d cried for his father, horrified to see so much blood. His father had recovered in a week, going so far as to throw Jimin up into the air and assure him that he was just fine.

As wolves, they were always quick to heal. Yoongi’s broken ribs had taken only five days and when Jimin had broken his arm after a bad fall out of a tree, it had taken three.

Two weeks sounds like a death sentence. It sounds like the assurances given to him and his mother when his father had first fallen sick.

“His injuries were that bad?” Jimin asks quietly, finally freed from Hoseok’s ministrations. He wishes he could do more, could somehow speed Jeongguk’s healing, could comfort him.

“It wasn’t just the lashes,” Hoseok says, peeling back Jimin’s blanket to show the bandages covering Jeongguk’s left buttock and his right leg. “He was bitten along his legs and had some smaller cuts and claw marks along his chest. It’s a lot for his body to heal so it’ll take more time but he’ll be okay.”

Jimin sits there in quiet horror, realising that Jeongguk had sustained injuries from fighting the rogues, too. He’d then brought Jimin back to the pack or been found out in the woods by Kang’s wolves and had been further attacked.

“I sent them home,” Taehyung says, entering Jimin’s room. Jimin breathes through his nose, his hand finding Jeongguk’s to squeeze. Yoongi and Namjoon’s scents soon join Taehyung’s and the door to the room slides shut.

Forget Yoongi, Jimin would kill Kang himself.

“Where’s my mother?” Jimin hears himself ask, unblinking as he stares at Jeongguk’s face. He looks like he’s in pain, eyes squeezed shut.

“She’s been encouraged to go to bed by Healer Yoo,” Namjoon answers, walking further into the room. “If her health deteriorates, so will your father’s so it’s important that she manage her stress. Her sister is there with them both.”

“Everyone else has left,” Yoongi adds, sitting down on the other side of Jeongguk’s sleeping mat. Taehyung joins him, both their expressions grim. “Omega Myunghee left with Seokjin-hyung and Healer Yoo with the rest of the healers.”

“So it’s just us?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Jimin nods, finally giving everyone in the room a proper look. Besides his family, these four people were the only ones he could truly trust.

He tells them everything: how he’d gone to the hot springs, how his heat had suddenly come out of nowhere, how he’d been attacked by two rogue alphas feral with their rut, how Jeongguk had saved him. He tells them that it was his idea that Jeongguk bite him, that Jeongguk’s control of his alpha was ironclad, never once wavering despite Jimin’s heat.

He tells them what Jeongguk told him about Kang and the guards Jeongguk had seen abducting the rogues, holding them prisoner. And finally, he tells them that he thinks his own heat was induced, too, that someone had tampered with the tea Healer Yoo had prescribed him.

The room sits in silence, too stunned to speak.

“Moon Goddess above,” Namjoon breathes out, having sunk down onto the floor at some point, just behind Taehyung. Their hands are laced together, tears already blurring Taehyung’s eyes.

“All this for what?” Hoseok says, all the blood drained from his face.

Yoongi is deathly quiet, his scent acrid once more. He seems to be fighting himself, attempting to keep all of his anger contained, his jaw clenched tightly. Jimin can see the tremor that runs through his body. After a moment, he lets out one long, shuddering breath, his eyes locking with Jimin’s.

“Do you suspect Elder Kim is working with him?” he asks, his knuckles white from where they’re gripping his knees. 

“Why else would they insist on punishing Jeongguk immediately,” Jimin says, all the pieces finally falling into place. “They wanted to eliminate the evidence. I don’t remember anything after Jeongguk bit me. I don’t know how they found us but — ”

“Kang claimed that they found you in the middle of the woods. Jeongguk was carrying you and refused to give you over to the guards so they surrounded him,” Yoongi interrupts, rolling his shoulders back. He pushes himself up to his feet and begins pacing, unable to dispel the rage building up inside of him. “You were carried into the village by him. He didn’t give you up until healers showed up.”

Jimin’s heart stops, stuttering back to life a second later. He clutches Jeongguk’s hand a little tighter. “You were there?”

“All three of us were looking for you in the village,” Taehyung answers wetly, caught between curling into Namjoon and leaving his side so he can hold Jimin.

“A guard came and found me once they’d brought you back,” Yoongi grits out, jerking back to look at Jimin. “I believed him so blindly. Kang claimed Jeongguk was the one to attack you, that he’d done it so he could — he could take you.”

Jimin understands the implications, feeling queasy. That is what he’d wanted, to remove Jimin from the picture by having a rogue abduct him.

“Kang went out into the woods himself?”

“He insisted on it,” Yoongi says, pausing in his pacing. “That fucking bastard. He must have been hoping…”

Jimin looks down at Jeongguk, furrowing his brows together. “I don’t understand why he let himself get caught. He could have just left me.”

“So that they could have killed you!” Taehyung exclaims, wiping at the tears that slip down his face. “Are you insane?”

“Did Jeongguk not defend himself?” Hoseok asks.

“He refused to speak,” Yoongi answers, rooted to the spot. “Kang called for his immediate trial but it was an execution. We all…we all thought he’d forced himself on Jimin. There was blood covering his throat, he was unconscious…”

They fall into silence again, the headache that had been easy to ignore earlier worsening. Jimin should get some sleep. The mating bite on Jimin's neck burns and he grits his teeth to hold back the grunt of pain that threatens to escape him. His back is still pulsing, the remnants of Jeongguk's injuries still haunting his body.

“Once a heat is induced, is it like any other heat, Hobi-hyung?” Jimin asks, still curious how no one had detected that he’d been in heat. The logical thing to do was to accuse Jeongguk of sneaking into their territory, lured in by Jimin’s heat, and taken advantage of him. And yet from the sounds of it, Kang and Elder Kim hadn’t mentioned it at all.

Hoseok shakes his head. “Induced heats and ruts, they never last very long. They’re usually just very intense and painful. Being wolves, our bodies are able to clear out the toxins rather quickly.”

“Do you think my heat would have worn off by the time Jeongguk brought me back to the pack?”

“It’s possible,” Hoseok says, nodding. His brows furrow together, gaze drifting down to Jeongguk. “Since Jeongguk bit you, that could have also helped. Not in a regular heat since your omega would still want the ultimate outcome to be pregnancy but given the circumstances...”

“So it was definitely induced,” Namjoon concludes, saying aloud what they were all thinking. Jimin’s stomach curdles, nausea climbing up his throat.

Members of his own pack had gone so far just to hurt him. The room seems suffocating, Jimin blinking back tears.

“I’m going to the old mill,” Yoongi declares, already striding toward the door. His scent roils off of him, leaving behind a trail. “If we’re going to expose Kang, we need every shred of evidence we can find.”

“I’ll come with you,” Namjoon offers, rising to his feet after he gives Taehyung a hug, scenting him gently. “You’ll be okay, love?”

“I’m fine,” Taehyung assures, letting go of Namjoon’s hand only when he steps away. “I’ll stay here with Jimin tonight.”

“Let me get my medicine bag.” Hoseok also stands up, following after Yoongi and Namjoon.

“Where are your things?” Jimin asks, twisting around to watch his friends go.

“Eomma and I are in one of the spare rooms, don’t worry,” Hoseok smiles, leaving Jimin and Taehyung alone with Jeongguk.

They stare at each other before Taehyung moves to come sit down next to Jimin. He pulls Jimin into his side, scenting him and rubbing his back.

“You need some sleep,” Taehyung murmurs softly, sweetly.

Jimin nods.

Somehow he ends up lying on a sleeping mat next to Jeongguk, Taehyung on his other side, pressed firmly against him. He’s not sure if he falls asleep, but he watches the rise and fall of Jeongguk’s back until light trickles through the rice paper, alerting him to get up.

He has a Council meeting to attend.

A week goes by in a blur.

Jimin doesn’t leave Jeongguk’s side, essentially moving his office to his room. He learns to delegate, relying on Yoongi, Taehyung, and a few of the administrators who work under him to ensure that things are still running smoothly for the Harvest Festival and within the pack. He stops offering to do everything himself, sending members of the hunting party or the patrol guard to help with tasks around the pack. He even asks Namjoon and his parents for help, taking advantage of their wealth of knowledge to better inform his decisions, to help him understand the policy that comes across his desk from the pack.

Why had he thought he had to do everything on his own?

The only time Jimin does leave his room is to attend Council meetings.

Those go about as well as Jimin could have anticipated. Everyone is in an uproar over Jimin’s “rash” decision making save for Myunghee. Elder Pil, surprisingly, is also firmly on Jimn’s side, having put Kang Yonghan under house arrest for such a blatant mismanaging of his duties and endangering Jimin’s life. The list of replacements is on Jimin’s desk far earlier than he thought it would be. He gives it to Yoongi and Seokjin, asking for their feedback. Who knew their chain of command better?

Jimin had explained the course of events to the Council, keeping his heat and his suspicions of being drugged to himself. He still has to launch an investigation into the infirmary but he wants to time it just right, wants the ruckus around Elder Kim and Kang’s actions to die down before adding more turmoil into the mix.

In the meantime, the pack continues to function. They’d accepted the official announcement about Jimin’s condition and the events that had unfolded on the day of his attack better than he’d thought they would. Taehyung is eager to bring back any gossip he hears while running errands and it seems like they quite admired Jimin’s act of devotion to his mate, even if they were still quite suspicious of Jeongguk.

It doesn’t seem that anyone is happy that their Pack Leader is now mated to a rogue. The parents of any number of eligible alphas and betas had already come by the house to complain to Jimin’s mother as if she could somehow remove the mating bite on Jimin’s neck and unbind him from Jeongguk. Even his father’s cousins had come by, attempting to cast further doubt on Jimin’s ability to lead. His cousin, Yoochun, had sent a few disgusted looks Jimin’s way, as he’d reminded them that he was a viable option for Pack Leader.

Jimin had blatantly rolled his eyes and smiled when his mother had called them despicable, alarmed by how easily they had abandoned all shame.

Ultimately, it couldn’t be helped. As a rogue, there was nothing Jimin could say or do about Jeongguk to cast aside the pack’s skepticism toward him. Even still, Jimin had been adamant in illustrating that Jeongguk had protected him, that he was the reason Jimin was still alive.

Jimin isn’t delusional. His mating has always been a heavy point of interest for the pack, with any number of families hoping that Jimin would mate one of their children to further their influence. And Jimin is now effectively taken; even when Jeongguk leaves, Jimin would be unable to bond with someone else and no other wolf’s seed would take even if they agreed to be with him without a bond.

The worst of the rumours manage to find him despite how little he leaves his room. Jimin’s administrative helpers aren’t as quiet as they’d like to believe they are, murmuring about how they’ve heard members of the pack stating that Jimin’s been disgraced, sullied by a rogue alpha, how an unmated omega should never have been allowed to become Pack Leader in the first place. 

Jimin takes it all in stride. He has no expectations that everyone will be happy with him; they already haven’t been.

He’s simply grateful that Jeongguk is recovering, the alpha waking up here and there to chug down a pitcher of water before promptly passing out again. The bond seems to vibrate inside of him, pressuring Jimin to be closer, to touch Jeongguk, to scent him.

Jimin resolutely refuses. 

Jeongguk bit him as a mercy; he is not Jimin’s mate, not by his choosing anyways. Jimin can’t push intimacy on an unwilling partner no matter how much his omega begs and whines for it.

He limits himself to helping Hoseok with Jeongguk’s daily check-ins, refusing to allow any other healers to help. Every day, he spends an hour helping Hoseok to clean up some of the still festering lashes, to rub salve against the wounds and bruised skin, and to bandage him back up. Hoseok feeds Jeongguk medicine thrice daily and Jimin watches raptly as the colour returns to Jeongguk’s face.

He would get better.

Jimin doesn’t think about what will happen once he wakes.

His chest feels as though it were caving in every time he thinks about Jeongguk leaving, pinpricks of pain travelling all the way down to his fingertips. He writes it off as the yearning of an incomplete bond, still unsettled and deprived of fulfilment. 

Jimin knows it will be painful, bearing the weight of the bond with Jeongguk gone but he will still have his life, his pack. He will learn to walk through fire, to allow loneliness to eat him alive, but he will not ask Jeongguk for more. Jeongguk has given him more than enough already.

He refuses to even think about Jeongguk finding someone else.

He lets his gaze linger over Jeongguk’s features, tracing over the serenity he finds there, memorising the slope of his cheekbones, the arch of his brow. Jimin doesn’t think it’s love, he hardly knows anything about Jeongguk for it to be love, but overwhelming gratitude, yes. Something adjacent to love, perhaps.

Certainly, Jimin owes Jeongguk a debt.

“He certainly covered all his tracks,” Yoongi says, fingers drumming over the surface of Jimin’s desk in agitation. He’d used it as a child when he’d still been in school, practising his calligraphy and making neat, diligent notes on the history of Goryeo. Now, it had been repurposed for his duties as Pack Leader.

Their efforts to find evidence against Kang had provided a mixed bag of results. Seokjin had been able to find some evidence: they’d found the alcove Jeongguk had taken Jimin to, had seen the blood, had noted the four distinct scents of alphas in rut. They had even found the chains left in the middle of the woods to tie the alphas to trees until they’d been unleashed on Jimin. 

But none of the rogues had been found and the guard had been unable to determine if they’d been killed at the cave or if they’d managed to run away. Their scent trails had eventually grown faint, the guards tracking them down for as long as they could.

They didn’t find much more at the abandoned, old mill. It was clear that someone had been there: footsteps left in the dust, signs of struggle, more chains but nothing more conclusive. Nothing that could tie everything back to Kang.

Right now all they have is his failure to protect Jimin and the pack. They couldn’t claim that Kang had been the one to orchestrate the attack but they could highlight that under his command, the guard had allowed four — five, if they counted Jeongguk — rogues to slip through their borders, completely undetected. Elder Pil is furious and has already arranged for an interrogation of everyone on patrol duty that morning. Jimin had asked him to let Seokjin take the lead on it and Elder Pil had been amenable. 

Ultimately, they had some circumstantial evidence and Jeongguk’s eventual statement. Kang would argue that a rogue couldn’t be trusted and the mere thought has Jimin’s blood’s blood boiling.

“The interrogations haven’t been going well, I take it,” Jimin says, putting aside the proposed finalised vendor layout. He has to approve it and Yoongi has been tasked with giving the copy back to Elder Lee, a prominent merchant in the pack.

“Everyone claims they don’t know anything,” Yoongi grumbles, the scowl he’s taken to wearing almost a permanent feature. “It’s embarrassing. How did five rogues get past the border if you all know nothing?”

“No one wants to be the one to take the fall,” Jimin says, reaching over to smooth the crease building between Yoongi’s brows. “Besides, you just need one of them to slip up. The rest will follow.”

“Someone’s optimistic.”

“What choice do I have?”

“I still don’t understand what he was hoping to do.” Yoongi shifts, straightening up. He hasn’t worn his uniform all week, opting to help Jimin out in plain clothes. Jimin wonders if he would give up his position in the guard entirely to work for him.

“Kang wouldn’t be the first alpha attempting to overthrow his Pack Leader,” Jimin replies, glancing over at Jeongguk. He’s still unconscious. “Power hungry alphas have done worse to sit at the head of the table. He probably saw it as a golden opportunity. Easier to get rid of an omega than an alpha.”

“He’s a coward.”

Jimin only hums his agreement, staring out into the courtyard with Yoongi. He’d left the door to his room open, the cool breeze occasionally wafting into the room and running through his hair. It’s sunny out, the world glowing in eager invitation.

“There has to be more that we can do!” Yoongi insists, scent sharpening with his upset. 

Jimin understands his anger, his frustration, but their hands are tied unless they can find someone willing to talk, someone who can testify that Kang had instructed them to hunt down and abduct rogue alphas to then sick them on Jimin.

“We can continue to plan the Harvest Festival,” Jimin smiles, hoping to distract Yoongi from his ruminations. They clearly were of no help.

It doesn’t work, Yoongi’s frustration coming to a head. “Jimin, he can’t get away with this! He needs to be exiled or at least thrown into a holding cell until he dies!”

“You’re angrier than I am.”

“We almost lost you,” Yoongi says, voice cracking, and perhaps Jimin has failed to understand the impact of all of this on his friends. Yoongi is grumpy and sarcastic but he’s never been so consistently angry before. “What he was willing to put you through…Death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person.”

Yoongi’s words hit a sore spot Jimin has been resolutely ignoring all week. He can pretend he doesn’t hear the whispers about how he’s been dishonoured, about how he’s tainted now that a rogue has claimed him. It seems like it’s the worst thing that could have happened to him, as if Jimin surviving the whole ordeal mattered less. He feels humiliated. Shame boils through him with such a vengeance that he’s left feeling sick in his own skin, wishing he could claw his way out.

“What do you want me to do, hyung?” Jimin says, voice coming out strained. He stares down at the papers on his desk. He still has so much to get through today. “I have over ten smaller packs coming to town in less than a month. I need to make sure there's enough food and space for everyone to live and stay comfortably. There's about five different ceremonies to plan for, a weeklong market to manage, the patrol to organise, gifts to be picked out. It’s endless! I have…I have no time to be angry.”

“No, you do,” Yoongi argues, head whipping in Jeongguk’s direction, tone accusatory. “I’ve seen how you get when it comes to him. Shouldn’t you value your own life, too?”

“Look at the state he’s in because of me,” Jimin snaps, furious that Yoongi would say something so stupid and selfish. “If someone nearly died saving you, you’d want to protect them, too.”

Yoong’s jaw clenches, his scent overpowering the room and Jimin takes note of the rapid rise and fall of his chest. It takes him a minute to steady himself, his breathing slowing down. Yoongi closes his eyes, opening them only when he seems to have calmed down entirely.

“You’re right,” he says, shoulders drawing in. He lets his arms rest on the desk, weight bearing down. “I just…I feel so helpless.”

“And you think I don’t?” Jimin should tell him to leave. He’ll never get anything done at this rate and yet, he knows he’s survived the week because his friends have made the effort to not leave him alone. “We just have to be patient. Once Jeongguk wakes up, we can ask him more about what he saw. If he’s willing to help, he may even help identify the guards he saw with the rogues.”

Yoongi looks back at Jeongguk, nodding. His scent has smoothed out and he sighs heavily. “Is the vendor layout to your liking?”

Jimin blinks, surprised that Yoongi has let it go but grateful nonetheless. Maybe Yoongi just needed to voice his frustration.

“It is,” Jimin answers, spreading it out over his desk. He stamps it with his seal of approval and hands it to Yoongi, who rolls the sheet of paper up and pulls himself up.

“I’ll get this back to Elder Lee. You’d still like them to start setting up a week prior?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, already reaching for the next piece of business he needs to attend to. “That’s how Appa always did it.”

“I’ll bring lunch on my way back.”

“Thank-you,” Jimin says, hoping that a walk will help Yoongi loosen up a little. “If you see Hoseok, can you ask him to come by?”

Yoongi nods, disappearing through Jimin’s door. He watches until Yoongi exits through the front gate and wills himself to continue with his work no matter how badly he wants to sink onto the floor and give up for the day. His shoulders are so tense, it hurts to even move his neck.

“I thought he’d never leave.”

Jimin’s eyes widen, head whipping in Jeongguk’s direction. He finds the alpha awake, already pushing himself up, face twisted into a grimace. 

“You shouldn’t be getting up!” Jimin exclaims, abandoning his work and his desk. He nearly stumbles in his haste to get to Jeongguk, forgetting himself and reaching out to help Jeongguk sit up. As soon as Jimin’s hand touches Jeongguk’s back, the bond blazes to life, simmering under Jimin’s skin like oil sizzling in a pan.

“Too late,” Jeongguk grunts, letting out a haggard breath. His voice is still gravelly, rough with disuse and Jimin finds himself embarrassed by how much he likes it. The sweet amber of his scent fills Jimin’s lungs like a drug, his body so eager to swallow more and more of it.

“Are you okay? How do you feel? Did you want some water? I have some here.” Jimin is rambling, the edge of panic settling behind his teeth and giving his voice a wobbly tinge. He twists to find the pitcher of water they’d set by the head of the sleeping mat, careful not to let go of Jeongguk. “Hoseok-hyung has just gone into town, your medicine is running out and he needs more ingredients. Let me go get him, he’ll know — ” 

A hand wraps around Jimin’s wrist and the words die on his tongue. Jeongguk brings a finger to Jimin’s lips, shushing him. “How do you expect me to answer you if you don't even pause for a breath?”

Jimin flushes, thinks that maybe he’s trembling from helping Jeongguk stay upright but Jeongguk hardly looks like he’s relying on Jimin’s help. In fact, he looks far better than he should given the still unhealed lashes on his back. Jimin’s heart is in his throat, Jeongguk’s touch searing into him.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, horrified with himself. He’s never fallen all over himself for an alpha before. What was wrong with him?

Jeongguk arches a brow at him, puffing out a laugh, his finger pulling away.

Hoseok had told Jimin that Jeongguk would regain consciousness any day now but Jimin is still wholly unprepared, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once. And above them all, in relentless, flaming brightness: mate.

“Water?” Jeongguk asks, releasing Jimin’s wrist. He sits up perfectly fine by himself, straightening up when hunching his back seems to be uncomfortable.

“Yes!” Jimin reminds himself to breathe, pouring out the cup of water and handing it to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk drowns it one go and Jimin pours him another cup, and another, and another. Soon the pitcher has been emptied out. Jimin is about to suggest he go get more when Jeongguk’s stomach growls, a week’s worth of hunger letting itself known.

Jimin’s brows shoot up in concern even if Jeongguk only looks mildly annoyed. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

He’s about to twist up and rush to the kitchen, hoping that Taehyung’s left something there that he can offer to Jeongguk but Jeongguk grabs him by the wrist once again, holding him in place.

“Stay,” he instructs, tugging Jimin’s wrist. “Sit.” 

Jimin sits.

Jeongguk stares at him openly, his eyes trailing down and over the yellow outer robe Jimin is wearing, pausing where Jimin’s newly healed mating mark is hidden under the fabric. Heat swarms in Jimin’s belly, his breath caught in his throat as Jeongguk’s eyes find their way back to his face. Jimin does his best not to squirm, memories of first meeting Jeongguk rushing up and reminding him of how the alpha had pinned him to the spot with his eyes alone.

He’s not under the delirium of heat now, desperate to prove himself to the alpha, and still, Jimin feels like he can’t so much as blink so long as Jeongguk’s sharp gaze assesses him.

“When were you planning to mention you were Pack Leader, Omega Park?” Jeongguk says, tilting his head to the right. Jimin can’t tell if he’s angry or amused, his scent rushing back to him and disappearing.

Jimin blinks, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “That hardly seemed like pertinent information given….given the circumstances.”

“Seems pretty pertinent to me.”

“Would you have done anything differently?” Jimin asks, already sure of his answer.

Jeongguk says nothing for a moment, the bond urging Jimin to get closer, to seek Jeongguk’s touch. He ignores it despite the way his chest seems to ache, longing for his mate.

“No,” Jeongguk says, “I wouldn’t have.”

Jimin’s not sure if Jeongguk is surprised by his answer but he seems unhappy with it. 

“I…” Jimin starts, looking down at his hands in his lap. He doesn’t know where to start, what to say first. He has so much to thank Jeongguk for, so much to apologise for. “I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to — ”

“No, I didn’t,” Jeongguk agrees, cutting Jimin off. He doesn’t look entirely pleased that Jimin is expressing gratitude. Almost looks annoyed.

“Why didn’t you — Why didn’t you leave me there? Why didn’t you get away?”

“It was obvious they’d kill you if I did.”

Jimin swallows. “So you saved my life twice.”

“I would have done the same for anyone,” Jeongguk says and Jimin is sure he doesn’t mean it so flippantly but he flinches, his omega so desperate to complete the bond that even the illusion of rejection cuts through him.

“Of course.” Jimin forces the words out. Suddenly, he wants to leave. He doesn’t want to look at Jeongguk’s face or wait pathetically for even a whiff of his scent.

“Do you think I would have bitten you and then abandoned you?”

Jimin looks up sharply, finds Jeongguk’s expression shuttered, his eyes watching Jimin’s every move like a hawk. He’s not sure what Jeongguk is looking for. He’s not sure what he wants. 

“You have no obligation to me,” Jimin says, despite how the words burn his throat, his tongue, his mouth. “I could never repay you for what you’ve done for me, not even if I spent the rest of my life doing so.”

“You’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps it’s dramatic to you,” Jimin snaps, annoyed that Jeongguk was making light of his turmoil, his all-consuming guilt.

“It will kill you,” Jeongguk says, quiet and almost concerned. His gaze softens and Jimin thinks he sees pity. He doesn’t want pity.

“What?”

“The bond, it’ll kill you.”

“People survive broken bonds, dead mates. This one is incomplete. It’ll fade.” 

Jeongguk’s lips quirk up, the smile never reaching his eyes. “Then you know less about bonds than I do.”

Jimin blanches, hating everything about this conversation. It’s nothing like what he’d imagined when he’d lain awake all these past nights, watching Jeongguk sleep. “I will not keel over and die the second you leave. It’s rather arrogant of you to think that you’d have such an effect, in fact.”

“It’ll cut your remaining life span in half, rendering you useless in a few years. You’ll go mad.” Jeongguk sounds so sure, like he’s seen it all before. Jimin feels dumb now. Why had he assumed a rogue would know less about bonds than he would?

“So what?” It doesn’t feel like he’s even the one answering back, his mind pulling him further and further away. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to tell Jeongguk to leave but what right does he have to ask Jeongguk to stay? And is that really what he wanted? Wasn’t it just the bond? “What can I do? Ask more of you? Look at what they’ve done to you! Look at what being my mate has gotten you!”

Jeongguk simply stares at him, giving nothing away and Jimin fights back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. The bond throbs and his omega whines, begging him to stop self-sabotaging.

“Are you asking me to turn a blind eye? To pretend I haven’t sentenced you to death?” Jeongguk is so quiet, his scent thin and barely there. Jimin forces himself to look away, fixing his gaze on a window just behind Jeongguk.

“I am — I have nothing more I can ask of you. I can’t imagine why you’d want anything to do with this pack…” 

Or with me, his mind supplies helpfully. 

Jeongguk is impossible to read. He has a command over his body and his scent that Jimin has never seen before. He says nothing and Jimin is left to spiral. It’s not as though he’d allowed himself to hope for something different. From the moment he had suggested to Jeongguk that he to bite him, Jimin had anticipated that he would be left behind but there had been no bond anchoring him to Jeongguk then.

The thought of Jeongguk leaving now already feels so dreadful that Jimin is sure Jeongguk is right. It will kill him.

“Did you mean it?”

Jimin blinks, drawn back to Jeongguk. His breath lodges in his throat, Jeongguk’s eyes as intense as ever. He watches Jimin like he’s prey and Moon Goddess only knows what Jimin’s scent reveals. “Mean what?”

“When you declared me your mate in front of your whole pack?”

“I — ” Jimin considers lying but he knows just from the way Jeongguk looks at him that he’ll see right through it. “Yes, I did.”

Jeongguk nods, finding whatever he was looking for in Jimin. He pushes himself to his feet and Jimin scrambles up, worried that this is all too much for Jeongguk’s still healing body.

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest for another week,” Jimin informs him, heart hammering against his chest. He wants to know why Jeongguk cares if Jimin meant it but his belly twists with uncertainty, with fear that he’ll be dismissed.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve seen the state of your back and you are far from fine.”

“The last time I was left for dead, no one bandaged me and braided my hair and fed me water. I survived.”

Jimin has to fight the blush that attempts to burn through his cheeks. What hadn’t Jeongguk noticed while he was unconscious? Had he even truly been unconscious? He glares, tries to be stern. “Then you should take this opportunity to rest properly.”

“I have,” Jeongguk says, glancing over his shoulder. He steps out of Jimin’s room and stands in the sun, eyes slipping shut. “A week is enough time.”

Jimin stares at the way his skin seems to glow in the sun, as if he were made to be kissed by the warmth of the day. He looks resplendent despite the bandages still wrapped around his torso. He even lets Jimin breathe in his scent, the amber spiced and woody, dripping like honey down Jimin’s throat.

“Unless Hoseok-hyung says you are fit to be walking around, you will lie down and rest.” Jimin reminds himself that Jeongguk is injured, that he can’t be cowed by the alpha simply because of his own guilt. He didn’t want Jeongguk setting back his recovery because of his own hubris.

Jeongguk quirks a brow up at him, his smile amused and tinged with that same condescension Jimin had seen back in the cave. “You’ll find I don’t respond well to orders.”

“They’re hardly orders.” Jimin has to swallow before he wraps a hand around Jeongguk’s wrist, fully intending to drag him back to the sleeping mat. “I am tending to a patient, one that has clearly lost his mind. I’ve bandaged your back for a week. I know the state of it.”

“Is that right?” Jeongguk asks, so teasingly that Jimin feels annoyance bubble up inside of him. There is no reason for Jeongguk to treat him like he were a pup, to be talked down to, unaware of how the world worked. 

“Do you feel it, too?” Jeongguk continues, pulling Jimin right against himself. He twists his arm right out of Jimin’s hold, capturing Jimin’s hand against his chest instead. His other arm drags Jimin closer, their chests pushed together with not a breath between them. “Right here,” he says, the arm that had been cinching his waist now pulling upward until Jeongguk’s hand grabs Jimin by the scruff of his neck. “The way my back aches, pain ebbing slowly down.”

Jimin gasps, steadying himself with a hand against Jeongguk’s chest. His breath catches in his throat, Jeongguk’s being like a fog around him, his scent and body surrounding Jimin with nowhere to escape.

Jeongguk’s hand drags down his spine and Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, Jeongguk’s touch like a fire burning through him.

“Do you feel the bond, Jimin-ssi?” Jeongguk whispers his words right against the shell of Jimin’s ear. 

“It doesn’t hurt as much,” Jimin answers, somehow. He doesn’t know how he can form a coherent enough thought to reply.

“And why do you think that is?” Jeongguk sounds so soft, so sweet. He tucks a strand of Jimin’s hair behind his ears and Jimin opens his eyes, finds Jeongguk’s gaze settled on him. Bright brown eyes pierce into his own and Jimin has to remind himself to breathe.

“Simply because you can bear the pain, does not mean you should,” Jimin says, thinks he might be trembling. Jeongguk’s eyes widen, the change so imperceptibly small that had he not been standing pressed against Jeongguk’s chest, he wouldn’t have seen it.

Jeongguk lets him go entirely, hands settling on his hips for a moment before he sighs, giving Jimin a lazy smile. “You certainly are wise, Omega Park.”

Jimin blinks stupidly, striped of Jeongguk’s proximity. He almost tells Jeongguk not to call him that. It sounds wrong coming from him.

“Please go sit down, rest. I’ll get you something to eat.”

Jeongguk hums, and to Jimin’s surprise, he takes a seat on the steps up to Jimin’s room.

Jimin counts it as a victory and heads for the kitchen. His heart still hasn’t slowed down, blood rushing past his ears with a seemingly endless roar.

It’s not until he’s standing in the kitchen that he realises that Jimin hadn’t felt any of Jeongguk’s emotions come through the bond, not like when he’d been injured.

He’s not sure why it hurts so much.

If Jimin had thought Jeongguk was a handful with him, he’s about a hundred times worse with everyone else.

Hoseok may as well not exist for how much Jeongguk cares about his advice regarding his own well-being. Jimin doesn’t even allow Yoongi and Jeongguk to be in the same room together, too tired to deal with what will definitely result in some kind of fight.

Taehyung, on the other hand, finds Jeongguk endlessly amusing even if Jeongguk only offers him disinterested glances. Jimin thinks he mostly just enjoys the way Jimin seems to get all cross-eyed and tongue-tied around Jeongguk but he doesn’t bring it up. The last thing he needs is for Taehyung to move on from his gleeful, knowing smiles to openly teasing Jimin.

“I’m going to go check in with my mother,” Jimin tells Jeongguk, not bothering to pull on his boots to cross the courtyard. The rogue has spent the morning sprawled out next to Jimin, occasionally staring at some paperwork Jimin’s left scattered about and making unhelpful comments. He’d been a little surprised at Jeongguk’s closeness since the alpha had woken up, had felt sure that Jeongguk would want his own room, space away from Jimin.

He doesn’t expect Jeongguk to follow him out. He’s only wearing a pair of pants, bandages still wrapped around his torso. Jimin’s jeogori are technically too small for Jeongguk to wear but going about half-naked is inappropriate, especially if he plans to present himself to Jimin’s mother and aunt.

“You need to wear clothes,” Jimin tells Jeongguk like he’s talking to a small pup, the two of them standing outside of his parents’ room. Jimin takes advantage of the steps to his parents’ room, standing an inch taller than Jeongguk. His mother and aunt had both visited him plenty of times when Jeongguk had been unconscious but ever since he’d woken up, Jimin had informed everyone to steer clear of his room.

Jimin’s not sure if he’s trying to protect Jeongguk from everyone or trying to keep Jeongguk from pissing everyone off. He seems to enjoy getting under people’s skin. He certainly enjoys annoying Jimin.

“I’m afraid I forgot to pack my extra clothes, Omega Park.”

Jimin resists rolling his eyes, already undoing the sash keeping his blue outer robe wrapped around his body. “I will get you something from my father to wear later but for now you can wear this.” 

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose at the suggestion but doesn’t protest so Jimin pulls off his outer robe, and drapes it over Jeongguk’s shoulders which proves more difficult than it should. It’s a little too small, Jeongguk’s shoulders broader than Jimin’s and his arms far bulkier. Jimin can tell the robe is tight across his shoulders, draping awkwardly down but it’s better than nothing. Jimin ties the robe together himself, surprised by how slim Jeongguk’s waist looks when he finishes tying the sash in place.

“Am I civilised enough for you now?” Jeongguk asks, cocking his head to the side. He’s grinning, attempting to rile Jimin up. His black hair drapes to the side, left loose and open, and Jimin ignores the way his heart skips a beat at the sight. 

He’d helped Jeongguk take a bath that morning, carefully washing Jeongguk’s hair and when he’d suggested giving Jeongguk a better haircut, Jeongguk had shrugged his shoulders and let Jimin have his way. Now he regrets putting in the effort. Jeongguk looks even more handsome than before; Jimin had given him a fringe, parting it to the left, allowing the shorter layers to frame his face.

“Stop being so difficult,” Jimin says dryly, not falling for the very obvious bait. He’s grateful to look away, raising a hand to the sliding door in front of him. “You can annoy me later.”

“Yes, sir,” Jeongguk says cheekily but he obediently hangs back when Jimin knocks on the door, following in after Jimin only when his mother calls him in.

“Ah, Eomma, this is Jeongguk,” Jimin introduces, shuffling into the room. “Jeongguk, this is my mother and my Aunty Eunhae. You’ve already met Hoseok-hyung. Ah, and this is my father.” He motions to his father lying in the middle of the room, the stuffy, medicinal smell of the room masking the scent of illness coming from him.

For the first time since meeting him, Jeongguk looks uncertain. He stares at the room full of people but manages to bow. Jimin thinks he even looks self-conscious and he bites back a smile. Bet he was happy to be wearing the outer robe now even if it was ill-fitting.

Jimin makes a mental note to have the tailor come by and have her make Jeongguk some proper clothes. He’d lend Jeongguk some of his father’s in the meantime. They had similar enough builds.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” his mother greets, smiling at Jeongguk. Jimin is thankful that she is keeping an open mind. He’s already had to argue with her over Jeongguk’s status and whether or not he could possibly be a good mate. While he understood her concern, there was little Jimin could do now. “Certainly, my Jiminie is lucky to have found someone so handsome and capable. It’s formidable that you are walking around already.”

“Thank-you, Eomonim,” Jeongguk replies, bowing in gratitude. 

Hoseok stifles a laugh as Jimin’s face burns bright red, in disbelief that his mother is embarrassing him like this. He takes a seat next to his father and Jeongguk follows after, sitting just a little behind him.

“I really cannot thank you enough for saving my son’s life,” she adds, quieter, kinder. Her eyes flicker down to her lap, scent bitter with shame. “Nor can I apologise enough for how this pack has treated you. I apologise deeply for how we have demonstrated ourselves. It is unacceptable.”

Jimin doesn’t expect her to offer Jeongguk a full bow, her hands cushioning her head as it meets the floor. He manages not to sit there with his mouth hung open and finds that Jeongguk doesn’t look much better.

“Please, Eomonim,” Jeongguk starts, flustered and it’s the first time Jimin has seen him like this. Even his scent strengthens, attempting to comfort her. He reaches out across Jimin’s father, gently prying his mother up. “I — I am sure you had hoped for better for your son. I apologise for being so unworthy.”

If Jimin had been shocked by his mother, he feels blindsided by Jeongguk. Just ten minutes earlier he’d been teasing Jimin and giving him a hard time, acting for all his worth like he was so much better than everyone around him. And where had he learned to be so polite?

“If Jimin has accepted you as worthy then so have I,” his mother smiles, taking Jeongguk’s hands in her own. She scents both, a familial gesture and Jimin swears he feels the bond flood with warmth, Jeongguk’s eyes widening in shock. 

“Thank-you,” he breathes out, settling back.

Hoseok catches Jimin’s eyes and gives him a discreet thumbs up, grinning stupidly. Jimin’s heart swells in his chest and then comes crashing down.

Jimin hasn’t mentioned anything about Jeongguk’s eventual departure to her. He hasn’t mentioned that to anyone. To see her be so kind, Jimin feels guilty, and worse still, he thinks of how betrayed they will be when Jeongguk leaves. To some extent he’s surprised that they’re accepting that a rogue is mated to Jimin at all.

In the day since Jeongguk has woken up, Jimin hasn’t learned that much more about the alpha. He holds his cards close to his chest but he humours Jimin and hasn’t refused any of Jimin’s inquiries about what he’d seen.

They haven’t discussed what Jeongguk will be doing when his injuries fully heal, the conversation entirely avoided by both of them. Jimin had updated Jeongguk on what had happened with Kang and Elder Kim, on what they’d found, and he’s yet to ask if Jeongguk can at least help identify the guards. That would mean introducing him to Yoongi and Jimin thinks that meeting should be avoided for a little while longer.

Jeongguk had confirmed that he didn’t kill any of the rogues, rendering them only unconscious. He’d then taken Jimin away from the cave, carrying him back to the village when he’d been surrounded by Kang and his guards on the way.

When Jimin had asked why he didn’t defend himself from their accusations, Jeongguk had simply asked if anyone would have listened to a rogue. Or cared.

He’d had no answer.

His aunt offers them both a smile, passing two cups of tea their way. Hoseok hands Jimin’s mother a bowl of what he assumes is his father’s medicine.

“How is everything going?” his aunt asks, glancing between the two of them. She is younger than Jimin’s mother but has the same kind eyes and round face, her hair cut much shorter in the style of her pack. She is taller, too, and full-bodied. Jimin can see just how much his mother’s health has deteriorated, her face thinning, when he sees them next to each other and is grateful that his aunt has been able to come see them, to look after his mother.

“It’s busy, Aunty,” Jimin answers, returning her smile. He wishes he had more time to spend with her but the Harvest Festival eats up most of his time and the rest goes toward Jeongguk and Kang’s scheming. “Just a lot to get through.”

His aunt frowns, her scent reminding Jimin so much of the ocean — crisp and clean with a salty tang. “I keep saying to your mother that it’s no wonder your father fell so ill. Hoseok says you hardly sleep. You need to look after yourself, Jiminie. You have a mate now, too.”

Jimin sneaks a glance at Jeongguk but his expression is blank, his scent mild and unassuming. He’s let out just enough that no one could question why he had no scent but not enough to reveal anything of his inner state. Jimin wishes he had such good control of his own scent.

All of the surprise from earlier has been wiped away.

“Of course, Aunty,” Jimin replies, eyes flickering over to his father. He takes a sip of his tea, unable to look anyone in the eyes.

“Is it hard for you,” Jeongguk asks, breaking his silence, “being away from your mate?”

Jimin has to carefully manage his own expression, surprised that Jeongguk has asked something like this at all. He looks away from his father’s sunken face, scanning the expressions of his family to see what they make of Jeongguk’s question but they only look curious, not concerned.

Jimin swallows, wishing he could gain some sense over what went on in Jeongguk’s mind.

“Haesook and I have been mated for so long, our bond is quite strong. A few days of distance is easy to bear but I can still remember how difficult the first year had been. There is a constant need to be around one another,” his aunt answers, smiling. She looks between the two of them conspiratorially, as if she understands how difficult this must be for them and how they must want to hole themselves away somewhere, away from the pack. “It’s very kind of you to ask, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk nods, his eyes tracking Jimin’s mother’s movements. She is mixing his father’s medicine and is preparing to feed it to him. 

Ever since Jimin discovered that someone amongst the healers had drugged him, he’d been wary of all the healers but he couldn’t afford to put his father’s care entirely in Hoseok’s hands. With Jeongguk, Jimin could claim that he simply wanted to keep pack interactions with him to a minimum, his bond was so fresh and possessive after all, but the pack’s healers had been looking after Jimin’s father for months now. He couldn’t ask them to stop. It would invite suspicion and tip off whoever was behind drugging Jimin and Jimin needed to catch the culprit.

Still, Jimin had asked Hoseok to keep watch over the healers and check in on his father. He’d even asked Hoseok to check his father’s condition himself in case the healers hadn’t been honest with them. Hoseok had been just as mystified as their pack healers, unable to determine what was wrong with Jimin’s father.

“Jimin, help raise your father’s head,” his mother asks him and Jimin sits up on his knees, wiggling his hand under his father’s head. He misses how his father’s scent smelled before he fell ill.

Jimin’s mother is about to bring the bowl to Jimin’s father’s mouth when Jeongguk catches her wrist, brows furrowed together and scent sharpening in warning. 

“Why are you feeding him poison?”

“What? ”

“There is Blood Moon in that bowl,” Jeongguk says, looking from the bowl to Jimin. He sounds so sure of himself that Jimin finds himself trembling, head whipping to look down at his father and then the bowl. 

They’d been poisoning his father themselves?!

Jimin’s mother is frozen and anger surges through Jimin with such a force it boils right over. He rips the bowl from his mother’s hand and tosses it aside, chest heaving. He thinks there are tears running down his face, horror gripping him by the throat. His mother sucks in a breath, wide eyes turning to Jeongguk.

“What — What do you mean there’s Blood Moon? How can you tell?” Hoseok demands, already grabbing the jars of medicine the healers had given him.

“Blood Moon berries only grow up north,” Eunhae voices, already moving closer to her sister. Jimin’s mother seems incapable of making a sound, tears brimming in her eyes as she stares at her mate, horrified. Eunhae wraps an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into her side. “They’re rather difficult to come by. Are you sure about this, Jeongguk?”

“I’ve lived on my own for most of my life,” Jeongguk answers, steady and firm. He looks toward Jimin and there’s no doubt in Jimin’s mind that Jeongguk is telling the truth. “If I fail to recognize what’s poisonous, it means death. No one is around to heal me, to give me an antidote. Blood Moon berries resemble dew berries, which are — ”

“Which are edible,” Hoseok completes for him, realisation dawning on him.

“Yes, and if you mix the two up, you would find yourself dead. I have to know the difference in their scents.”

“How could they — How could they do this to him? For what reason?!” Jimin cries, his mind racing. All doubt is cast out of his mind. Not only had Jimin been drugged, but someone had intentionally tried to hurt his father. To kill him.

“But Blood Moon is deadly. It paralyses the victim, shutting their body down in…in a few days at most. How is he still alive?” Hoseok is attempting to reason with himself, inhaling the contents of one jar after the other in an attempt to scent out the poison. He pauses on one of the jars, stilling. “Is this it?”

He hands the jar to Jeongguk who takes one whiff and nods, expression grim.

“There’s barely any in there. Blood Moon berries are lethal if you eat the whole thing but not if you’re only using incremental amounts,” Jeongguk says, his scent wrapping around Jimin in an attempt to calm him down. Jimin is greedy as he inhales amber, falling back onto his haunches. “Someone must have dried them and then ground them up, mixing them into that jar of medicine. They've added in just enough to make him sick, to render him so weak he can’t wake up. Once you mix all the various medicines, the ginseng alone hides the scent almost entirely.”

“How long…When did they…” Jimin can’t wrap his head around the idea that someone would do this to his father, that they would bloody his mother’s hands to poison her own mate. He almost wretches.

His mother has started crying in full, face burying into her sister’s shoulder.

“I,” Jeongguk starts, hesitating only for a moment. His expression hardens, hand reaching out to grip Jimin by the elbow. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been poisoned over the long term. His health deteriorated slowly over time, right?”

Jimin’s not sure how Jeongguk knows that but he nods mutely, wiping at his own tears. He can’t afford to cry right now.

Jeongguk looks to Hoseok. “Is there an antidote?”

Hoseok seems unsure but he’s rising to his feet, a steely determination filling his gaze. “I don’t know, not off the top of my head. Like Eomma said, Blood Moon berries are rare, especially down south. I can check with Namjoon-ssi. He’ll have some texts in his library and if he doesn’t, he will know where to look next.”

“What — what can we do in the meantime?” Jimin asks, urging himself to keep his composure. He needs to help his father, he needs to find whoever did this.

“If Jeongguk is right and we can find an antidote…He should make a full recovery easily,” Hoseok assures, looking more and more confident. “It would explain why no one could determine what’s wrong.”

“Who brought the medicine?” Jimin asks, looking at his mother.

His aunt answers. “Healer Yoo came a week ago, the same day as….”

The attack. Jimin remembers that Taehyug had mentioned she had been here, that maybe she hadn’t left even after attending to Jimin.

“Was she alone?”

His aunt shakes her head. “She came with the other healers but she stayed alone after they’d tended to you so she could check on your father. One of the other healers brought the medicine at her request but Hoseok has confirmed that she prepares it all herself.”

“What could she possibly gain from — from killing Appa?” Jimin says out loud, sweat beginning to collect in his palms. “It’s not like she could become Pack Leader and he’s never — When has Appa ever refused the infirmary anything? Why would she want to help Kang? What could he possibly promise her when she is already Head Healer?”

“It may not be her,” Jeongguk says, rising to his feet. “So long as someone has access to the medicine, they could have mixed it in.”

The world seems to be crashing down around Jimin again, panic crushing his chest. All he can hear is his mother’s crying, his eyes fixed on his father’s face. Someone had done this to him. Someone had drained the life out of him.

Nothing makes sense and the betrayal is so devastating that Jimin cannot verbalise his grief. How many times would his own pack betray him?

“We can’t…we can’t let anyone else near Appa,” Jimin hears himself say. The whole world feels unreal to him, tilted upside down and pulled inside out. “I need to talk to Yoongi and Elder Won…We need to find who’s behind this, who’s helping Kang.”

Elder Won had previously been the pack’s Head Healer. Now he sat on the Council and Healer Yoo reported to him. Jimin has no idea if Elder Won is loyal to him and his father, he feels unsure of everyone at the moment, but Elder Won has never spoken out against Jimin becoming the Pack Leader. In fact, he usually stayed out of pack politics entirely, chiming in at meetings only when the infirmary came up.

“No,” Jeongguk advises, shaking his head. “You need to pretend like you don’t know this is happening. Hoseok can tend to your father privately but have the healers continue to check on him, keep up appearances. Is the medicine going to run out soon?”

“Not for another week,” Hoseok answers, standing in the doorway. He’s pulled on his boots and looks ready to go. 

Jeongguk nods, more to himself than them. “Good. Make it appear that you are still giving it to him.”

“But we need to find out who’s behind this!” Jimin exclaims, failing to understand why Jeongguk wants them to pretend they don’t know his father is being poisoned. “We should be launching an investigation into the pack healers.”

“You’ll give yourself away,” Jeongguk admonishes, offering a hand to Jimin. He takes it and allows himself to be pulled up. “Kang is not the only one behind all of this. If you want to catch all his accomplices, you don’t want to lose the upper hand now that you’ve finally gained it.”

Jimin blinks, staring at the room around him. Nothing makes sense. The bowl he’d tossed aside earlier sits upside down next to the wall, its contents emptied out across the floor and dripping down the wall. 

“Okay,” he says, trusting Jeongguk. Their eyes meet and the bond sings in the back of Jimin’s mind, grounding him. If he hadn’t met Jeongguk, would they ever have known? Would Jimin’s father simply have wasted away?

Hoseok bids them farewell, disappearing into town. Jimin’s mother seems inconsolable and as much as he’d like to stay and see to her, he can’t. He needs to plan what they will do next. His aunt assures him that she will stay with her and Jimin allows Jeongguk to walk him outside into the courtyard. They’re still holding hands, the bond thrumming to life from the extended contact. Jimin’s omega is the happiest it’s been since Jeongguk first bit him, eager to be shown any kind of affection.

Abruptly, Jeongguk stops, turning to look back at Jimin. They’re standing in the middle of the courtyard, the noontime sun beating down on them. Jimin has to squint to look at Jeongguk.

“I’m going to see if I can find the rogues.”

Jeongguk’s words don’t immediately register but when they do, the panic Jimin had been fighting down sweeps back up. He takes a step closer, gripping Jeongguk’s arm. His heart is beating so fast, his chest hurts. “What? You — You haven’t even fully healed. How are you going to track down four rogues? You need rest, Jeongguk.”

“If you want to find whoever’s behind this, I’ll need to find the rogues. Or at the very least, one of them.” Jimin doesn’t like the single-minded look in Jeongguk’s eyes or the way his jaw is set.

“Why? What could they possibly — ”

“They’ll know the guards' faces better than me,” Jeongguk replies, anticipating Jimin’s objections. “I was too far off to know their scents and they were careful to hide their scents whenever they were at the mill. If even a single one of the rogues recognizes Kang and accuses him of abduction, whoever’s working with him will be forced to act. Even one mistake and we can catch them.”

“But why? Why are you doing all of this? Jeongguk, your back — ”

“My back will heal,” Jeongguk cuts him off, his expression brokering no argument. His scent is sharp, stinging. Jimin’s chest is caving in. “There’s no better time for me to hunt down where the rogues have gone, if they’re still alive. Everyone thinks I’m still healing, too hurt to be walking around.”

“You are,” Jimin insists, dread filling up his chest. He doesn’t want Jeongguk to go. The need is so strong, so primal that Jimin’s mind can’t think past it. He will be left alone.

“You understand why this is important, right?”

Did he? Jimin has no response, unable to look away from the determined look on Jeongguk’s face. If Jeongguk picks up on Jimin’s distress, he ignores it.

“Do you think Yoongi can bring me a guard’s uniform? It’ll help me sneak out.”

Jimin nods, feels Jeongguk slip out his hands as he turns toward Jimin’s room. He’s saying something but Jimin isn’t really grasping it. He moves as if possessed, like he knows that there’s work to be done.

But all he can think about is how his mate is leaving him. His mate is leaving him and his father is dying and Jimin has enemies everywhere.

Jimin’s not sure how he gets through the rest of the day.

Jeongguk leaves within a few hours and Jimin feels like a ghost in his skin. He’s there but not, Jeongguk sees him and then he doesn’t.

A myriad of thoughts spin through Jimin’s mind. Why did Jeongguk care so much and if Jeongguk cared so much, how could he leave Jimin? Couldn’t he see how much it hurt Jimin? Didn’t he feel how the bond stretched thinner and thinner the farther he went from Jimin?

It’s difficult for Jimin to focus on anything else, to understand that there is more at play here than his abandonment, if he can even truly call it that. Jeongguk is going to come back. 

And Jimin will need to survive until he does.

He walks behind Yoongi and Jeongguk as they make it to the edge of the northern border. Both are dressed in the red of the patrol guard with Jimin opting for something subtle and muted. He hopes he blends into his surroundings.

Jimin had packed Jeongguk’s bag himself, the alpha asking him why he needed so much food but Jimin had ignored him. He didn’t want Jeongguk to have to live off the land in his state. As much as he didn’t show it, Jeongguk’s wounds hadn’t fully healed and Jimin could see it in the stiffness with which Jeongguk carried himself, how he still couldn’t comfortably bear any pressure against his back.

“How are you so sure you’ll find one of them?” It’s Yoongi. He’s wary of Jeongguk, not as accepting as Jimin’s mother or Taehyung.

“I know their scents better than you,” Jeongguk replies, pausing when they come to a small, trickling stream. The Park Pack’s territory ends a little ways off from it. There are a few streams that run through their land, all of them coming from the mountains.

“They’ve had a week to get away. What does it matter if you know their scents?” Yoongi doesn’t bother holding back how unimpressed he is with Jeongguk and Jimin finds himself curling his hands into fists, not wanting to involve himself with their posturing.

Jeongguk gives Yoongi a once over, his expression conveying little but disinterest. “You pack wolves don’t know what it’s like out there. Every single one of them was injured,” Jeongguk says, taking a step toward Yoongi. They have barely a foot of space between them when Jeongguk leans in, appearing taller than he is. Jimin’s eyes widen, noting how Yoongi clenches his jaw, his distaste obvious in his scent. “Do you think there are healers waiting to tend to them, little alpha? How quickly can you travel when you’re bleeding out?”

Yoongi almost snaps his teeth at Jeongguk, a rumble coming out of his chest that seems to give Jimin far more anxiety than anything else. Jeongguk is unfazed.

The collective waves of dominance coming from them are too much for Jimin, his knees nearly buckling out under him. He has to take a step back and it’s enough to draw their attention to him, pulling them away from each other.

This is exactly what Jimin expected from the two of them.

“He knows what he’s doing, hyung,” Jimin says, mouth dry. 

Yoongi grunts, turning away from Jeongguk and taking a few steps back in the direction of the village. Jimin uses the opportunity to close the distance between himself and Jeongguk, nudging the alpha forward. They continue walking until Yoongi is out of earshot.

“He’s my oldest friend,” Jimin says quietly, incapable of looking at Jeongguk. He’s not even sure why he’s sharing this when it can’t be important to Jeongguk. “He’s very protective.”

“Then he should do more protecting.” 

Jimin looks up at Jeongguk sharply, annoyance flaring through him. Jeongguk is watching him intently as he always does, his hair pulled back and tied into a bun. His scent has practically disappeared. “You don’t always have to be so rude.”

“Does it bother you?” Jeongguk asks, stepping closer to Jimin. It forces Jimin to look up, to breathe in the still lingering scent of his father on Jeongguk’s clothes. “That I’m so rude? You must hate it.”

“I don’t think less of you because you’re a rogue, Jeongguk,” Jimin says, can see what Jeongguk is angling toward, his distrust and dislike apparent. His hurt. “Don’t think that because I grew up in a pack that I’ve never seen adversary. I’m an omega, no one ever stops thinking less of me.”

Jeongguk has nothing to say to that, his eyes shuttering, closing himself off. Jimin has no desire to debate the horrors of life with him. He’s sure that he wouldn’t survive in the wild the way Jeongguk has, that Jeongguk has seen cruelty Jimin can only imagine but Jimin is keenly aware of how prejudice operates.

“Please make sure to drink your medicine twice daily,” Jimin instructs quietly, can feel the burn of tears at the corners of his eyes. The bond throbs painfully in his chest and Jimin grows irritated with his own emotionality. “There are still a few lashes that are nowhere near healed so be careful. If you rip the stitches, it’ll be difficult to stop the bleeding. I packed salve in your bag and — ”

“I’m going to come back,” Jeongguk says, his tone far gentler than Jimin expected it to be. Whatever defensiveness had put him on guard earlier has ebbed away. He takes one of Jimin’s hands in his own, his warmth sinking into Jimin’s skin, and brings Jimin’s wrist up to his nose, scenting it delicately. Jimin feels even the smallest movement of Jeongguk’s nose over his skin, nearly shivering at the touch. “And I’m going to make sure that Kang never hurts you again.”

Jimin’s breath has caught in his chest, a lump forming in his throat. He still doesn’t want Jeongguk to go.

“Thank-you,” Jimin manages to croak out.

Jeongguk nods, lets Jimin go and walks out into the woods. The bond bite burns as if it knows exactly what’s happened. 

Jimin can only stand there for so long, watching as Jeongguk’s broad back disappears, before turning around himself. He feels hallowed out.

How would he survive when Jeongguk would leave for good? He tells himself that this will be good practise, that he’ll have an idea of how painful it’ll be. Eventually the pain would dull, would become bearable. It hurt more because it was fresh.

“You two seem to be getting along,” Yoongi comments when they’re trudging back to the village. He still seems annoyed, minty scent filled with his ire.

“Did you want the opposite?”

“Well, it’s not as though you mated under ideal circumstances.”

Jimin sucks in a deep breath, not wanting to delve into whatever it was that had grown between him and Jeongguk. For an alpha, for a rogue, Jeongguk felt like an anomaly. Jimin is well aware that the bond influences how he craves and wants and needs Jeongguk but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the countless ways Jeongguk disrupted all of Jimin’s judgements about alphas, about rogues.

It’s not as though Jimin hasn’t met good, kind alphas before. He’s been blessed enough to be surrounded by a few of them — his father, Yoongi, Namjoon, Yoongi’s father. These days he would count Seokjin in the mix. But even the best alpha had a way of conducting themselves, carried with them an entitlement that seemed to be innate. 

Jimin had thought Jeongguk had it, too.

He postured and demanded and threw his weight as an alpha around like the best of them.

But he had yet to make some smarmy remark, to remind Jimin of his place as an omega, to exert himself over Jimin. Even Jimin’s father, the one alpha on the planet who had never cast doubt on Jimin’s abilities, had occasionally made disparaging remarks about the other subgenders.

He seemed mostly defensive, forced to prove himself over and over and over again. Jimin knew what that felt like.

“And what ideal circumstances should we have mated under?”

“You should have been courted,” Yoongi replies, sounding surprised that Jimin would ask something so obvious. “You deserve to have a mating ceremony, Jimin. To be bound together before the Moon Goddess.”

“Next time I’m about to be claimed against my will, I’ll remind the alpha kind enough to save me that they still need to court me.”

“Don’t be crude.”

“We’re making the best of what we have been given,” Jimin says, pausing when he spots the first rooftops into the village. He looks at Yoongi, sees how tired he is and reminds himself that Yoongi only wants better for Jimin. It was a sentiment that Jimin returned. “He could very easily have demanded I leave with him. He’d have the right as my mate and the entitlement as an alpha.”

Yoongi scowls. “I would never have let that happen.”

“And if I had said that’s what I wanted?”

“I know you, Jimin,” Yoongi says with such conviction that Jimin believes him. He knows a version of Jimin. A Jimin that existed before he’d nearly been forcefully bonded to an alpha mad with the fever of their rut. “You would do anything for this pack, for your family. You would never leave us.”

“I suppose so,” Jimin replies, letting his gaze fall to the earth, shrubs and roots and dried, brown dirt filling his vision. “But would this pack do anything for me?”

“A few rotten apples don’t ruin the whole barrel, Jimin.” Doubt creeps into Yoongi’s scent and he takes a step closer to Jimin, hand cradling the base of Jimin’s neck.

“No, they don’t,” Jimin concedes, facing Yoongi once more. “But rot can spread rather quickly.”

Life continues in Jeongguk’s absence.

It’s not quite the quality of life Jimin would want for anyone but he grits his teeth through it. At least when Jeongguk had been here, even if Jimin couldn’t freely touch him, he was near enough that the bond accepted it. Proximity had balanced out his need for direct contact and intimacy.

Now, it seems like it’s screaming at him to go after Jeongguk. His mind never rests, frantically calling out for Jeongguk, for their mate. There’s a hollowness in Jimin’s chest that never dissipates, throbbing outward until Jimin feels it everywhere: his head, his neck, his shoulders, his back. The pinpricks will pulse all the way down to his fingers and toes and Jimin has to bear it.

The mating bite on his neck burns constantly, too, as if angry that Jimin had let Jeongguk go at all.

He does his best to keep up with his responsibilities as Pack Leader but he misses the Council meeting that week. The world seems dull and meaningless without Jeongguk and Jimin hasn’t slept a single night since his departure.

He’s cried himself to dehydration, muffling his pleas for Jeongguk, for his mate to come to him. All in all, Jimin is exhausted, a shell of his former self and everyone around him can see it.

Jeongguk’s words keep echoing through his mind. 

It will kill you. 

The bond.

Jimin keeps waiting for it to hurt less, for him to sign off on something for the Harvest Festival without wanting to cry. He wonders if this is what it’s like for his mother. If she’s had to spend the last two months splintering apart all while never giving up hope.

Jeongguk isn’t even his. Shouldn’t his mind know that?

“You need to eat,” Taehyung says, tugging Jimin away from the report he’s received from Elder Pil. For the time being, he’d taken over as Commander of the Guard and he was far more diligent than Kang had ever been. Jimin gets daily reports and updates, all of which are appreciated.

“I’m not hungry,” Jimin mutters, wanting to yank his hand back from Taehyung. He finds comfort in no one. Every scent burns at his nose and every touch makes his skin crawl. He only wants one person, a frustration felt not only by him but everyone around him.

“I’m sure that when Jeongguk comes back and finds you dead, he’ll be over the moon.”

Jimin nearly stumbles at the thought, bile rising up his throat at the thought of hurting his mate like that. Taehyung has laid out a smaller table with just some rice, mackerel, and a few side dishes. It’s nothing extravagant, only enough to encourage Jimin to eat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, allowing Taehyung to sit him down. Chopsticks are placed gently into his hand and Jimin truly has no appetite but he needs to see Jeongguk again. So he eats.

And again he thinks of his mother.

You really think he’s going to be okay?

I have to.

He understands her conviction now. He understands some part of what it means to have a mate, to feel a certain devotion. He doesn’t think it’s love, he still hardly knows Jeongguk, but it feels more familiar now. Something closer to it.

Taehyung coaxes him into eating half the food in front of him, even feeds him some ginseng to help with Jimin’s waning energy levels. His belly churns uneasily, not quite happy to be fed.

“Did he mention how long it would take him?” Taehyung asks, soft and kind and far more patient than Jimin deserves. He’s been so difficult and moody, pushing everyone away.

Jimin shakes his head. He doesn’t even know how Jeongguk will find someone who could have disappeared to Moon Goddess knows where by now. Still, Jeongguk had promised he’d be back and Jimin just had to endure this a little longer.

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” he admits, wishing he could just lie down and curl into himself. “Being bonded is fucking awful. Will it always be like this?”

“He’s coming back, Jimin,” Taehyung assures, hesitating to reach out and comfort Jimin. “Most of the time, you spend the first few months with your mate so the bond settles and being apart doesn’t feel so awful. It must be worse since you haven’t bitten him yet. The burden of being apart falls entirely on you. He really should have had you bite him before he left.”

“He’s done enough,” Jimin defends, a little more sharp than he intends but the bond can’t tolerate a bad word against Jeongguk right now.

“He’s your mate, Jimin,” Taehyung says, his earthy scent tasting like dirt in Jimin’s mouth. “You’re meant to be equals, to share the burden.”

“I asked him to bite me so it’s my burden. He never wanted any of this.”

“Neither did you! Stop being such a martyr and actually stand up for yourself. You can’t undo what’s been done,” Taehyung says, irritation bleeding through his voice. “You are as much his responsibility as he is yours. That’s what being mates means.”

“He’s not going to stay, Tae,” Jimin confesses, finally giving in and lying down on the floor. His head hurts and his eyes hurt and his heart hurts most of all.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung’s hand shoots out to grab Jimin’s, pulling on his arm hard enough that Jimin is forced to look at him, scowling.

“It means he’s going to leave once he’s healed,” Jimin answers, letting out a hollow laugh. His head falls back, resting against the cool wooden floor. “He may have already left, who knows.”

“How do you know that? Did he tell you that?”

“That’s why he agreed to bite me. I begged him, told him that it would only impact me. I can’t ask him to stay, Taehyung.” 

“So he’s said nothing of the sort and you’re just wasting away and punishing yourself?”

“Would you stay?” Jimin snaps, baring his teeth at Taehyung. He’s fucking exhausted and lonely and so so heartbroken. He doesn’t have it in him to debate Taehyung on what’s going on. “The first thing this pack did was whip him to near death. Would you fucking stay? Would you give up your life to stay bound to someone whose whole pack hates you simply because no one’s ever wanted you!?”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Taehyung bites back, just as icy. “It’s obvious he cares about you, that he’s taking this seriously. Why else would he have gone to find you a witness, to help you?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand him.”

“Stop trying to see into his head.” Taehyung has crawled closer to him, has pulled Jimin’s head into his lap and Jimin blinks up at his friend, his vision blurry. “Ask him. When he gets back, ask him what it is he wants. Stop assuming.”

“What if I scare him away?” Jimin breathes out, curling into Taehyung. Everything feels so bleak.

“How is that any different from him leaving you anyways?”

It isn’t.

Jimin’s fingers dig into Taehyung’s hanbok, tears falling freely. He thinks he’s sobbing, loud, harsh sounds falling from his lips. Everything hurts.

Everything hurts and he just wishes he had his mate.

“Is he really getting better?” Jimin asks, cradling his father’s hand in his own. He still looks sick, features gaunt and skin tinged grey with illness. His scent reminds Jimin of rotting leaves, winter slowly eating away at life.

“He is,” Jimin’s mother murmurs, stroking Jimin’s father’s hair. “I can feel it through the bond, how he’s gaining strength.”

It had taken a few days but Hoseok and Namjoon had found an antidote to the Blood Moon berries. Namjoon had even gone a village over to obtain some of the ingredients so as not to raise suspicion. Hoseok had suggested it, uncertain that he’d be able to ask for all of the ingredients from the infirmary without giving them away. It had taken another two days since to create the antidote and they’d fed Jimin’s father two rounds of it since the day before.

“How long will it take before he’s able to wake up?” Jimin asks, looking over to Hoseok. His aunt Eunhae had gone into the village to get them all dinner, grimacing when she’d seen the state Jimin was in. Her warm touch still lingers on his skin, his body reminding him again and again that it wasn’t his mate’s.

“I can’t say for sure. If his sickness is all from being poisoned, it may take a few days for the antidote to undo all the effects but if it’s something more, I’ll have to wait and see.” Hoseok has taken a seat next to Jimin, a hand rubbing circles into Jimin’s back.

“You really think…he’ll get better?” Jimin’s hopes have already been raised but he doesn’t want to be too reckless, even if he finds it difficult to temper himself.

“Moon Goddess willing, he’ll be with us before the Harvest Festival.”

It’s been over a week since Jeongguk had left. Jimin has made himself sparse in the meantime, asking Yoongi and Taehyung to continue doing much of what he used to do in person. Yerim had come by after the Council meeting to give him the meeting minutes and had been happy to carry out a number of other tasks for Jimin, clearly worried for his health. Jimin had lied and said that because Jeongguk was still unconscious, the bond had put quite a bit of strain on him. 

His aunt Myunghee had come to check in on him, too, after he’d failed to go to the Council meeting but he’d been too tired to see her properly. He’s not sure if she noticed the lack of Jeongguk but she made no comment. Instead, she’d sat with him until he fell asleep and had told him all about the shift in the Council’s dynamics ever since he’d removed Elder Kim. Everyone seemed far more supportive of Jimin without her overbearing negativity and Jimin had smiled and thanked her, silently wondering if he’d ever be strong enough to attend another Council meeting again.

Not much else had changed. There were a few guards Seokjin and Yoongi were suspicious of and were keeping under watch, and Hoseok had started spending more time at the infirmary to see who Healer Yoo worked with and met with so they could perhaps catch her in the act or find some kind of lead.

Elder Pil was still conducting his investigation into Kang Yonghan, namely to determine how the patrol guard had been so poorly mismanaged that they’d failed to complete one of their main responsibilities. Thus far, Kang’s record keeping was meticulous, his devotion to his role as Patrol Commander rather evident in the quality of his work. It didn’t surprise Jimin; Kang had always taken his role seriously. He may have been difficult but he took great pride in his work.

But Elder Pil had found that Kang would schedule a certain group of alphas together, assigning them to missions or patrol together. In some cases, those alphas would be unaccounted for and so Jimin had been assured that slowly but surely, they would uncover all the members involved in this plot against him.

He’s grateful, of course. There is a certain relief settling inside of him, knowing that they would be able to discharge Kang from his position, that they’d be able to save his father. Things didn’t feel quite so despairing.

The Harvest Festival is also only two weeks away now and Jimin needs to get back out into town so he can approve of all the decorations and ensure setup is completed properly. There were stages that had nearly been built that he had to see and he needed to check in with the temple to ensure they didn’t need anything. The Festival always began with a prayer to the Moon Goddess and a final parade ending in a night of revelry with rituals performed in the name of the Moon Goddess, the temple’s altar overladen with offerings. 

The problem, of course, is that Jimin barely has the energy to sit up. The bond feels thin and fraying inside of him. His bond mark pulses almost constantly now, never giving him a moment’s respite. There’s no sign of Jeongguk and Jimin’s not sure at what point he’s going to be able to push through how drained he always is.

“Jimin! Jimin!”

The loud exclamations are coming from outside, and before Jimin can turn around, the door to the room is ripped open. Jimin finds Taehyung standing at the threshold, panting and looking for all his worth like he’s just run through the entire village.

“What’s — ”

“He’s back,” Taehyung breathes out, barrelling into the room. His scent is pungent with his excitement, the earthy tones mixing with musk and something sweeter, fruitier.

For a split second, Jimin just sits there, the words sinking into him so slow, and then his body alights, the bond burning through him with joy for the first time in days.

Jeongguk is back.

Taehyung is grabbing ahold of his hands and is dragging him up to his feet and Jimin has to dig his hands into Taehyung’s hanbok to steady himself, carried away by his friend as if caught in the current of a river.

They’re running outside, Taehyung guiding Jimin through the house and taking him out through the back gate. There’s nothing but woods behind the house, the two of them zipping through the trees as if they were ten again and simply chasing one another for fun. Jimin’s not sure how he keeps up, how his legs don’t give out under him. 

His mind just keeps repeating the same thing to him, over and over. 

Jeongguk is back.

At some point, Jimin stops trying to understand where they’re going. He follows Taehyung blindly, the world blurring around him until they’re at the very outskirts of their village. Taehyung’s brought him to Seokjin’s family house, built farther out from the village as Seokjin’s father ran one of the three forges in the pack out on his land here.

The house is quaint, the gabled roof decorated with black, traditional roof tiles and embellished with wooden patterns resembling the flow of water. The layout is similar to Jimin’s own house, although it is smaller, lacking the extra wing Jimin’s house provided. They had a number of spare rooms, ones which had belonged to various members of the Park Pack before. About twenty feet out from the house, the Kims have a large forge. It’s made entirely of stone, plumes of smoke rising from the forge’s large chimney.

“He’s really here?” Jimin asks, heart beating so loudly in his ears. He almost can’t believe it, nose attempting to pick up even a trace of amber.

“Just around the back,” Taehyung says, leading Jimin to the back of the house. They round the corner of the house and Jimin finds Jeongguk standing there, euphoria bursting through him at the sight of his alpha. The bond is almost frenzied with need, his bond mark pulsing, and Jimin takes a hurried step forward, relief flooding through him. He sees Yoongi, Seokjin, and someone Jimin doesn’t recognize but could never forget.

The scent feels like a slap to the face.

Jimin yanks his hand out of Taehyung’s grip, nearly falling backwards in his haste to get away. Panic seizes him and Jimin has to squeeze his eyes shut, doubling over as his chest squeezes painfully, the image of the rogue chasing him down and pinning him to the ground, claws sinking into his back flooding through Jimin’s mind. He falls against the side of the house, telling himself to run away, to get away from here but his mate —

“Jimin — ”

“I have him,” Jeongguk says, a hand resting against Jimin’s back and another tugging softly at his shoulder. Amber, sweet and woody, engulfs him and Jimin sucks it in greedily, twisting toward the source.

“Alpha,” he breathes out, unaware of just what he’s said. He reaches out blindly, tears spilling down his cheeks, fear like a noose around his neck, choking him. He curls into Jeongguk’s arms, face burying into the curve of his neck and shudders, trying to steady his short, gasping breaths.

“You’re okay,” Jeongguk soothes, wrapping Jimin into his arms. He holds Jimin so tightly, Jimin nearly forgets that a rogue is waiting for him on the other side of the house. “You’re safe.”

He believes it. Jeongguk would keep him safe. He’s already proven it.

It takes Jimin a little longer to calm down, to realise that he’s not being hunted down again. The moment passes, any excitement he’d gained from seeing Jeongguk again seemingly drained. His head hurts, the aches and pains of his body returning to him.

His omega whines and whines, the bond satisfied but not, always craving more. Jimin knows he should pull away but the mere thought exhausts him. 

A hand curls around the base of his head, squeezing his neck until Jimin goes lax, the entirety of his weight falling against Jeongguk. He doesn’t realise it until Jeongguk’s nose drags over his scent gland, a current flooding through Jimin with such a force that his heart stops in his chest, but Jeongguk is scenting him. It’s sweet, careful, meant for comfort. 

The touch is so careful, so gentle that Jimin aches. He can’t remember the last time anyone’s ever scented him like this, held him like he’s something tender, meant to be treasured.

Jimin relaxes, the panic seizing him unfurling entirely until he breathes in with every inhale he feels Jeongguk take and exhales with him, too. Jeongguk’s nose drags up and down his neck, soft and sure, his fingers rubbing into the base of Jimin’s neck. How did he know that Jimin liked having his neck stroked?

Jimin has never liked a scent as much as he likes Jeongguk’s. He thinks he could breathe it in forever, drowning into the sweetness of it until he forgets himself altogether.

“She won’t hurt you,” Jeongguk says, the words whispered against Jimin’s skin. Jimin shivers, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of Jeongguk’s hanbok. “I’ll be right there, I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, feels as though he owes as much to Jeongguk. He simply hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction from himself, had given meeting one of his attackers again no thought. It seems laughable now, to think so little of it. The last two weeks had been relentless, and Jimin has barely had the time to sit down and process anything, let alone the attack. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jeongguk’s voice dips so low, fills with such warmth that Jimin has to give himself a moment. It shouldn’t be so easy for Jeongguk to soothe him, to reassure him, for Jimin’s greedy heart to be so satisfied by a few words.

Jimin pulls back a little abruptly, suddenly unsure of himself and what he’s asked of Jeongguk. “No, I — You’ve done more than enough already. You don’t — You don’t have to do more. I’m okay, I’ll be okay.”

“You keep saying that.” Jeongguk hasn’t let him go yet, one hand still wrapped around the back of Jimin’s neck and the other sitting in the small of Jimin’s back. If Jimin didn’t know any better, he’d say he sounded upset.

“I — That is — ”

“Even if we weren’t bonded, I’d be a pretty lousy alpha if I couldn’t help to calm a scared omega down.” Jeongguk lifts Jimin’s chin up, forcing him to meet Jeongguk’s eyes. They’re as brown and endless as Jimin remembers them, just as intense and unreadable, too. “Give me a little credit.”

“I am,” Jimin hurries to explain, dropping his hands to his side when he sees that they’re still gripping Jeongguk’s hanbok for dear life. It’s one of Jimin’s fathers — dark blue with wolves embroidered into the fabric. It’s one of Jimin’s favourites. “You keep helping me and I’ve — I’ve only made your life worse.”

“Who said you’ve made my life worse?”

Jimin’s eyes widen, Jeongguk’s expression far softer than anything he’s seen from him before.

“Is everything okay?”

“Jimin just needed a moment,” Jeongguk answers, turning to look behind him. Yoongi looks between the two of them, his brows knit together in concern.

“I’m okay,” Jimin assures, offering his best attempt at a smile. He steps away from Jeongguk, missing his touch immediately and heads toward Yoongi. Jeongguk follows.

They round the corner of the house and Jimin sucks in a deep breath, willing himself to face the rogue Jeongguk has brought back. She’s shorter than all of them, black hair cropped short and tied back at the base of her head, her face thin and pointed. There’s dried blood on her clothes and the same necklace of claws that Jeongguk wears.

Jimin’s heart beats loudly against his chest but he forces himself to stand there, to bear her scent. Jeongguk stands right behind him, so close that his warmth bleeds through their layers of clothes and finds Jimin.

“Thank-you for coming here,” Jimin says, finding his courage, and watches the rogue’s eyes widen, the change just as imperceptible as it had been the first time he’d seen it in Jeongguk. “I don’t know if it was against your will,” he pauses, glancing back at Jeongguk who shakes his head, “or what you were promised but I am thankful.”

“He told me you’d heal this,” she says, lifting the hem of her jeogori up. In place of an outer robe, she wears a thick pelt of furs. Jimin imagines they’re uncomfortable in the heat but then rogues must have to carry everything with them as they move through the world.

They all seem to suck in a gasp at the sight of her wound except Jeongguk, the claw marks all festering with pus across her flank. Jimin feels a weight settle against his chest, realising that she must have obtained these when fighting Jeongguk. He doesn’t know how she’s standing, how deep these cuts must go.

Just what couldn’t a rogue withstand?

“Absolutely,” Jimin agrees, taking a step closer. “I — I want to apologise for what this pack has put you through, how it has endangered your life. Your testimony would help us greatly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the spiel,” she says, waving off his apology in annoyance. “Besides, it’s not like you were left unscathed by it.”

She averts her eyes when she says the last bit, as if remembering what she’d almost done to Jimin. He has to remind himself that he’d escaped, that she hadn’t managed to get very far thanks to her fight with the other alpha wolf.

Jimin nods, can understand that she must be angry and more importantly, in an immense amount of pain. “We should have brought Hoseok-hyung with us,” he mutters to himself, glancing at Seokjin. “Are we able to take her inside? She shouldn’t be standing.”

“She attacked you,” Seokjin says, mildly surprised by Jimin’s suggestion. “We should be taking her to the holding-cells. I’m sure we can attend to her injuries there.”

Jimin can see the rogue’s expression harden, her feet shifting in the dirt to put herself into a fighting stance. He thinks he even detects a change in Jeongguk, his body stiffening.

“She was abducted and drugged,” Jimin says slowly, confused by Seokjin’s aversion to the rogue. Surely he understood that her actions had been against her will. “If you cannot keep her, I will find her somewhere else to stay.”

“It’s not that I can’t,” Seokjin says, looking toward the rogue. “But I’m a member of the guard. I’m meant to protect our pack from rogues, not give them shelter.”

“I’m sure the members of the guard are also not meant to put their Pack Leader in danger,” Jimin reminds none too kindly, already turning toward Yoongi and Taehyung. He didn’t want to make Seokjin uncomfortable either, could see the unhappy twist to Yoongi’s mouth, too. Only Taehyung had managed to keep his expression carefully neutral. “Do you think we could keep her at your house, Taehyung? I’m sure Yoongi’s father won’t be too happy about a rogue either.”

“I don’t think Namjoon will mind,” Taehyung says, nodding his head. He offers the rogue a smile, the edges a little strained. “I can get Hoseok and set up the spare room for her.”

“I’ll be staying with you, too, then,” Yoongi declares, levelling the rogue with a look that makes it clear he doesn’t like her or trust her. “Someone needs to watch over her.”

“Why? You think I’m going to attack you in the middle of the night?” the rouge scowls, equally distrustful of the group of them. Jimin doesn’t blame her and he wonders how it is that Jeongguk convinced her to come here, if getting help with her injuries was truly enough.

“No,” Yoongi says, giving the rogue an indifferent look. “If you’re found, whoever’s behind all of this will surely want you dead.”

“I can look after myself,” she sneers.

“You’ve done such a great job thus far,” Jeongguk says with a snort, already turning away from their party of five. “You’re on your way to dying in a few days if you don’t get help. Just shut up and take it.”

The rogue laughs, a harsh, spiteful laugh, lip curling over her teeth. “Got yourself into a pack and think you’re better than the rest of us now, Jeongguk?”

“I’ve always been better than you,” Jeongguk smiles mockingly, his words cold, cutting. His scent roils off of him in waves and Jimin has to reach behind himself, hand finding Jeongguk’s torso to steady him. “Or did you want to find out just how much better?”

The rogue grunts, scowling but cowed. Jimin doesn’t ask then and there if Jeongguk knows her for they certainly sound acquainted with one another. He needs to get her to a healer. The last thing he needs is for her injuries to take her life and he loses his one and only witness.

“If you’d please go with Taehyung and Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin smiles, gesturing toward his friends. “We’ll have the healer with you shortly.”

The three of them set off through the woods, Jimin thanking Taehyung for his help. He’d have kept her at his own house if he didn’t think that someone would eventually come across her. The pursuing turmoil would be more trouble than it could possibly be worth. Far more bodies passed through the Park house than Namjoon and Taehyung’s.

Jimin turns his attention to Seokjin once they’ve been left alone, eyeing the captain with a certain apprehension. “I’m sure Yoongi-hyung will let you know if she’s able to provide her testimony by tomorrow. I understand your hesitation but please be kind. She may be all we have to expose Kang for who he is.”

Seokjin nods, his gaze flickering from Jimin to Jeongguk. “I meant no harm, Omega Park. I hope you understand.”

Before Jimin can reply, Jeongguk cuts in, a hand tugging at his elbow. “Hasn’t the harm already been done?”

Seokjin bristles, his hands curling into fists but he has the sense not to get into a fight with Jeongguk, keeping his lips pressed into his thin line. Jimin knows the patrol is taught to view all rogues as a threat — that’s how the world saw them: as liars and cheats, thieves and cowards.

“We should get going,” Jimin says, bowing to Seokjin and twisting around to give Jeongguk a pleading look. He doesn’t seem like he cares to stay here any longer and turns away, his hand finding Jimin’s. 

The bond sings between them, Jimin’s mind distracted immediately from the contact.

“Thank-you for your help, Captain,” Jimin says as he’s led away, just barely catching Seokjin’s bow. Jeongguk guides him away from the house, his steps longer than Jimin’s own. They don’t go through the woods, Jeongguk instead taking Jimin to the road that leads them back into town.

Jimin stares down at their conjoined hands, at how Jeongguk’s calluses rub against his skin, at how his hand seems to disappear in Jeongguk’s. He swallows, remembers what Taehyung had told him and attempts to be honest with himself and with Jeongguk.

“I’m glad you made it back,” Jimin says, taking larger steps so he can walk beside Jeongguk and not a step behind him. 

“I told you I would.”

“Is there really no one who would have helped her?” Jimin asks, recalling the grotesque state of her injuries. He can hardly believe that she isn’t already dead.

“No one is eager to help a rogue and no rogue is eager to accept help. Pack wolves are rarely so kind as to expect nothing in return.” Jeongguk’s tone is clipped, annoyance creeping into his scent until it tastes bitter against Jimin’s tongue.

“But don’t you have a home? I mean, as a rogue, is there nowhere that you live, that you can go to? How do you survive any injury then?” Jimin is thinking out loud, can tell from Jeongguk’s shrinking scent that he doesn’t appreciate the direction of their conversation.

“What pack would agree to let a rogue live on their land?”

“There’s unclaimed land.”

“Land is always claimed when there are rogues involved.” There’s a note of agitation in Jeongguk’s voice, perhaps at Jimin’s ignorance or perhaps because he doesn’t appreciate having his life questioned like this. Jimin only hopes to understand him and what he’s been through.

“You could have stayed in one of the big cities,” Jimin says, dismayed when Jeongguk’s hand slips out of his grasp. He drags it through his hair, not bothering to look at Jimin as he walks.

“That requires joining a pack.”

“Don’t you want to…” Jimin doesn’t finish the question, eyeing Jeongguk’s back as he moves ahead of him. He’d been unable to get up for a week after they’d shredded his back. Why would he want to join a pack if this is how packs treated rogues? He amends his question. “Are you…Does it upset you that…what she said?”

“I have no interest in your pack, Jimin,” Jeongguk says, stepping off the main road so that they can take the smaller roads and alleys back to Jimin’s house, relatively unseen. They should have just gone through the woods. “If I am here, it’s for you alone.”

The bond and Jimin’s omega both seem to vibrate in excitement at that but Jimin feels his heart sink, his feet growing heavier with each step. Jeongguk could never be happy here.

Jimin could not ask him to stay, not if it meant tying him to people who had already shown how little they cared for him and his kind. No one else had tried to help Jeongguk, his pack watching as he’d been mercilessly whipped.

Jeongguk’s scent carries on a breeze to Jimin, softer than he deserves.  

“Do you know her?” Jimin asks, hoping to change the direction of their conversation. He trails after Jeongguk as they make their way back to Jimin’s house, walking past a few houses. The sun trickles through the gaps between the houses, their footsteps muffled by the grass growing along their path.

“Hyojung? Our paths have crossed before,” he answers, sparing Jimin a glance. The sun slowly sets in front of them, the last shreds of light slowly dying the sky red. “You get to know the other rogues in any given area.”

“Is that why you knew you’d find someone?” Jimin asks, watching the wind ruffle Jeongguk’s hair.

“No,” Jeongguk says, stilling. He turns back to Jimin, standing at the centre of a smaller road, his bag digging into his shoulder. Jimin wants to take it from him, knows that Jeongguk’s back cannot possibly be in good shape. He’s been gone for eight days. “I knew I would find someone because I’m good at what I do.”

Jimin should have expected the answer and what would normally have come across as arrogant to Jimin only reassures him. Jeongguk’s confidence in himself feels safe. “What happened to the others?”

“Two of them are dead. Hyojung says Kang killed one of them but the other three managed to escape. Whatever they’d been drugged with eventually wore off so they didn’t attack anyone else, but they all had injuries.”

“How do you know two of them died then?”

“I found one dead.” Jeongguk says it so matter of factly, devoid of any compassion. “I told you, there’s no one out there offering to help us. If you don’t know how to take care of yourself, you will die.”

Jimin stands there, chest heaving. He thinks he may cry. He hides the tremor running through his body by gripping his hanbok.

Even if they had attacked him, even if he had no idea what kind of people they were, good or bad, Jimin can’t help but feel that they were dead now because of him. All this violence, this blood, simply to get rid of him and his father.

“Where…where are their bodies?”

“I buried the one I found,” Jeongguk says. “We’ll have to ask Kang about the other.”

Jimin looks up at Jeongguk, sees the setting sun dipping below the horizon behind him. He glows in the red light as if lit on fire, the sight of him so dazzling Jimin has to remind himself to breathe. Jimn has never been weak to a pretty face before but he could look at Jeongguk forever, his hair falling loosely around his shoulders, tucked carefully behind each ear.

“I’ll pray for them both,” Jimin finally says, moving forward. He would need to reach out to the pack’s priest, Hawoon, and ask him for the proper preparations. There was no reason to be so callous to the dead.

“You would pray for them?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze fixed on Jimin, watching for a reaction.

“Of course.”

“After everything they did?”

“They didn’t choose any of this, Jeongguk,” Jimin says, stopping short of Jeongguk. He looks up at the alpha. “It was against their will just as it was against mine. Their souls deserve to find peace when none was given to them at their moment of departure.”

“Plenty of people could care less for a rogue,” Jeongguk counters, still watching Jimin’s every move as if waiting for Jimin to slip up, to hurt him.

“I’m not plenty of people,” Jimin retorts, a little upset that Jeongguk would think so little of him. He understands why Jeongguk doesn’t trust him — he has no bond muddling his feelings either — but he’s given him no reason not to. “If I’ve done something to upset you — ”

“You haven’t,” Jeongguk interrupts, stepping closer to Jimin. His scent is all Jimin can inhale, sweet amber and spice. The bond thrums in delight and Jimin squeezes his hands a little tighter into the folds of his hanbok, lest he reach out and try to touch Jeongguk. He’d already been scented earlier. He doesn’t dare hope for more. “But you are so full of surprises.”

“I am?”

“You are,” Jeongguk affirms, so close now that Jimin has to look up, his heart beating so fast in his chest that Jimin feels a little dizzy. He nearly stumbles back, blinking through the daze Jeongguk always seems to put him in but finds himself somehow even closer to Jeongguk, strong arms wrapping around his waist.

Jimin swallows.

Every time Jeongguk touches him, the bond seems to sigh with relief, weighed down with a joy so earnest that Jimin can hardly grasp it. It becomes difficult for Jimin to see if it’s the bond that wants Jeongguk or him.

“Have you slept at all?” Jeongguk asks, apparently content to hold Jimin close. Jimin wonders how Jeongguk thinks he’s capable of conversation right now, how he could possibly form a coherent thought. 

“Are you saying I look like I haven’t slept?” Jimin knows how he looks. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair needs to be washed. He’s been losing weight pretty steadily over the course of the last two weeks, his face thinning unattractively.

Jeongguk grins, cupping Jimin’s cheeks in his hand. “You’ve looked far better.”

Jimin swallows, questioning if he’s heard Jeongguk correctly. Did that mean Jeongguk found him attractive?

“You were right,” Jimin says, thinks his voice might be trembling. “It was — ”

It was a nightmare, he wants to say. He wants to tell Jeongguk that he never wants to experience it again, that kind of loneliness, but the words sink like an anchor into the pit of his stomach. They will not rise.

“It was difficult,” he says instead, dropping his eyes from Jeongguk’s. He finds himself staring at Jeongguk’s mouth, and notices the little mole just under Jeongguk’s bottom lip. He has them scattered across his cheeks, too. Jimin had traced them, connecting them together like a constellation, when he’d been taking care of Jeongguk. “From the moment you…” you left, he thinks bitterly, “you went to look for her. I didn’t think it would be so terrible.”

Jeongguk’s hand falls to Jimin’s mating mark and he nearly hisses, the skin somehow still tender after two weeks. Worse yet is the way heat seems to pulse out from the mark, licking through his body with want.

“You said you meant it,” Jeongguk says, all his attention fixed on the mark. He traces over it gently, his touch as light and soft as a feather. It drives Jimin mad. “Would you have accepted me as a mate had you been given a proper choice?”

Jimin doesn’t expect the question, blinking through his surprise. “I don’t — I mean,” he starts, thinking of every moment of comfort Jeongguk has given him, of every time he’s been left flustered, his heart singing in his chest. He thinks that maybe it doesn’t matter if he was given a proper choice or not. Jeongguk is what he’s been given and Jimin thinks he’s enough. 

“I don’t know,” Jimin says honestly, fingers circling around Jeongguk’s wrist, their eyes locking. “I’m notoriously picky. Everyone calls me an ice princess, says I’m too hard to please, that my expectations are too high.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes flash red, the brown darkening with each passing second, his attention completely fixed on Jimin with that familiar intensity.

“It doesn’t matter to me that I was given my choice the way I was. I’m happy with what I have.”

“Are you?” Jeongguk whispers, thumb stroking over the mating mark. Jimin shudders, forced to close his eyes. His heart is in his throat. “Don’t you think you deserve better than me? A rogue?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a rogue, Jeongguk,” Jimin says, opening his eyes, hoping that Jeongguk can see his sincerity. He reaches out and cups Jeongguk’s face in a hand, his belly in knots at his forwardness. “You aren’t a punishment to me, you could never be.”

And maybe Jeongguk doesn’t expect Jimin to be so honest, to lay his heart out so easily. Maybe he doesn’t believe Jimin is being honest at all but he pulls back, as if Jimin’s kindness is too much to bear.

They walk back to the house in silence, the bond throbbing through Jimin’s chest.

It could be worse, he tells himself. Jeongguk could have never come back.

Kang Yonghan is found dead in his home two days after Hyojung gives her testimony.

Jimin refuses to rule it out as a suicide.

The usual excitement for the Harvest Festival is difficult to find after Kang’s death is announced to the pack. Jimin senses the collective unease, hears the whispers that this is a bad omen, but he’s spent all summer organising the event with the pack’s Council and they have so many smaller packs coming in to attend the event. He’s not going to cancel the festival now.

Packs tried to be as self-sufficient as possible but the Harvest Festival gave everyone an opportunity to meet new people and see new faces. In any given year, there were only two or three such opportunities, centering around the Lunar New Year where they celebrated the Moon Goddess, the Summer Festival welcoming in warm weather, and of course the Harvest Festival.

Once winter came, packs tended to stay put. It was difficult to travel between villages when there was ten or twenty feet of snow to compete with.

And so Jimin barrelled forward despite the ghost of Kang Yonghan’s death hanging ominously over the festival.

Elder Pil had been the one to find Kang after he’d failed to show up for an interrogation meeting following Hyojung’s testimony. He’d been poisoned, clearly, but a note had been left behind. A note that hardly looked like Kang’s writing but that claimed he was ending his life from the shame of failing his duties to the pack so horribly.

Jimin found it hard to believe that an alpha as proud as Kang would kill himself especially when he’d been insisting he did nothing wrong the entire time he’d been put on house arrest. 

It was all a little too convenient. Hyojung had identified all of the alphas that had caught her and held her captive, providing her and the other alphas water laced with whatever had caused their ruts to be brought on. They were all alphas Elder Pil had reported were sent on special missions by Kang and with Kang dead, they’d confessed rather easily to what those missions had been for. They’d been the ones tasked to hunt down the rogues, to abduct them and keep them under watch until they could be put to use.

They’d revealed everything Kang had ordered them to do, how they were to ensure that Jimin would be attacked, when to drug the rogues so that they would be in rut. All of this because they’d been angry that an omega had become the Pack Leader.

Jimin had recognized a few names on the list given to him, names of alphas he had rejected when they’d attempted to court him. It had only affirmed that he’d made the right decision, that they’d all been after the position he offered them and had no true interest in him. And it had also felt like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder that there were many people who thought so little of him and his fellow omegas.

“How much longer will it take?” Jimin asks the head of the project. They’d decided to use one of their fields to help expand the amount of space they could offer the visiting packs. The packs needed places to sleep and stay and there were only two inns in the whole village which were reserved for the pack leaders of the incoming packs. At older festivals, their visitors would bring their own tents and spread out across the village’s peripheries but Jimin had thought it’d be more welcoming if they could help to offer accommodations.

“Most of the tents have already been pitched, Omega Park,” the project lead answers. She’s a stout woman, only reaching Jimin’s shoulder but incredibly efficient. Jimin likes her. “And as you had suggested, we are pitching a larger tent to act as an additional dining hall. The fire pit is almost completed, too. We will be ready before the week ends and I daresay, our visitors will be pleasantly surprised by our hospitality this year.”

Jimin returns her smile, grateful that she’s focused on her work and not Jimin’s looming shadow. He’d had no such luck with his aunt Myunghee and her kitchen staff when he’d gone there first thing in the morning to get an update on their food stores. Everyone had stared rather openly at Jeongguk, a few of the staff members going so far as to ask why Jeongguk was here.

Jimin had put an end to their rude questions rather icily, asking a boy who’d muttered crassly about where rogues belonged. Jimin had loudly asked him what problem he had with their Pack Alpha and he’d shut up immediately, embarrassed to be caught. No one had much more to say after that.

Surprise had crept through the bond at Jimin’s declaration but he’d been too busy and annoyed to turn back and catch a glimpse of Jeongguk’s expression. He still wishes he’d seen it, Jeongguk’s feelings for him still so difficult to decipher.

“Everything looks very well organised, Omega Lee,” Jimin compliments, smiling at the woman. “I thank you and your team for all their hard work.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Omega Lee smiles, bowing in gratitude. “It’s been a great honour getting to work with you.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say thank you, but Omega Lee isn’t done.

“It might sound silly, but seeing an omega as Pack Leader, it gives me confidence to pursue my own dreams. I had always wanted to help with the festival but everyone always says to leave the planning to the alphas. I finally took a chance this year and I’ve enjoyed myself tremendously.”

“I’m,” Jimin starts, hopes he doesn’t sound as astonished as he feels, “I — Thank-you, Omega Lee.”

“You take good care of yourself and your mate.”

Jimin takes this as his bid to leave, warmth blooming in his chest. With everything that had been going on, he’d thought there were few people who were supportive of him. Omega Lee’s words sit as a kind reminder that his presence is wanted, needed even.

“She seemed nice,” Jeongguk says, falling in step next to Jimin. He says it nonchalantly, more or less indifferent to the members of Jimin’s pack.

Jimin looks over at Jeongguk, wearing a red hanbok today with flowers embroidered along the sleeves. The colour suits him, contrasting with the black of his hair. He’s tied half of it up today, looks as handsome as ever, a roundness to his cheeks now that he was back and eating full, proper meals.

“I’d forgotten why I wanted to be Pack Leader,” Jimin confesses, walking through the field with Jeongguk, rows upon rows of temporary tents set up for as far as Jimin can see. They’d have a much easier time accommodating all of the visitors that would soon be trickling into their territory. Some of the merchants from the other packs had already arrived, wagons laden with their goods already sitting next to the tents they had occupied.

“And why was that?”

“To prove to everyone that I was as worthy as any alpha,” Jimin replies, pausing when they reach the end of the field. “I forgot what it meant to other omegas, to see someone in a position of power.”

“There are a fair few omegas on the Council,” Jeongguk points out.

“It’s not enough. The spots are limited. Alphas and betas are always first pick for head of the infirmary, for teaching, for farming. Even now the Council only has two omegas on it if you don’t count me versus four alphas and three betas. And every subgender gets one seat at the table as a minimum. Omegas are told to stay put at home, to bear pups, and take care of their mates. There is no room for any other aspirations,” Jimin explains, his words coming out quicker and quicker in his urgency, his upset at the injustice of it. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder. “Sometimes, I wonder if my father would have been so adamant to name me his successor if he’d had a second alpha or beta child.”

“But I’ve seen omegas doing more than just child-rearing here,” Jeongguk says, tilting his head to the side. He doesn’t sound argumentative, not the way alphas have dismissed his concerns before. Instead, he sounds curious. “Plenty of them run their own stalls in the market. Isn’t the bakery almost entirely staffed by omegas?”

“I’m not saying things haven’t changed but so much still stays the same.” Jimin sighs, nibbling on his bottom lip. “I want to help create a world where no one ever questions an omega Pack Leader.”

A world where no one tried to get them killed or raped or abducted, either.

Jeongguk takes a step closer to him, and tugs the bag off of Jimin’s shoulder, taking it to hold himself. Jimin almost tells him he’s perfectly fine carrying his things but then doesn’t, stupidly pleased that Jeongguk had seen his discomfort and alleviated it. 

“So it’s important to you,” Jeongguk says, and it’s not a question but an observation.

Jimin’s heart squeezes in his chest. “It is.”

Jeongguk only hums, doesn’t attempt to put Jimin down for having silly thoughts about omegas being treated more justly. Even Jimin’s father would have told him by now that everyone had their role in society, a sentiment sometimes echoed by his mother.

He sets off toward the town square. It would serve as the centre of the market, with stalls spilling out into the town’s larger streets. The dining hall sat close to the town square and the temple was a quick walk up one of the hillier roads. It had made sense to concentrate the stalls along the main road that ran through the town with the parade starting from one end and ending at the other.

Jeongguk simply follows after him, a silent shadow, and Jimin is ashamed to admit that he wishes they could hold hands the way they had when Jeongguk had returned. It’s a childish want but one that won’t leave him. He’s supposed to be working, can’t be caught giggling and simpering over his mate. What kind of example would that set anyways?

He tries to push the thought aside, attempting to claim that the bond was influencing him but every time Jimin catches a whiff of Jeongguk’s scent, purposefully subdued, Jimin aches to be closer.

Jeongguk has followed Jimin everywhere since they’d found Kang dead. With Jeongguk’s return, Jimin had finally slept through the night and had felt more well-rested than he had in weeks. Jeongguk had made no comment when he’d seen Jimin’s rather shabby nest, an attempt to bring himself comfort while his mate was away. But later, he had added some of his worn clothes to the mix when Jimin had been busy with his work.

They make it to the town square in companionable silence and Jimin finds himself watching Jeongguk for any sign of a reaction but if he feels anything seeing the platform where he was humiliated, he shows nothing.

His wounds were almost entirely healed but his back had scarred, raised skin forming dark lines that criss crossed over each other. Jimin had tried not to cry at the sight, watching as Hoseok had taken out the last of the stitches.

Even now Jimin wonders how it is that Jeongguk can stand being here.

And then he thinks of what will become of him if Jeongguk leaves. It was astounding how quickly Jimin recovered by just having Jeongguk near. In the last three days, Jeongguk hadn’t touched him again, not like he had the first night. Jimin thinks he can still feel the drag of Jeongguk’s nose against his scent glands, across the delicate skin of his neck.

He doesn’t think he will ever forget it.

“I’m just going to check in with Beta Woo,” Jimin tells Jeongguk, pointing to one of the larger stalls being set up. There are decorations being draped along the sides of buildings, strings with hand-crafted lanterns and paper wolves being stretched from one side of the square to the other so that they hang over everyone. 

“I’ll be right here,” Jeongguk says, finding himself a spot in the shade. He leans against one of the buildings and Jimin cuts across the square to get an update on how things are going. It’s his first day back out so some of the organisers have been surprised to see him check in on them in person.

“Beta Woo, I see you’re as hard at work as ever,” Jimin smiles, reaching the man. He’s no taller than Jimin himself, his features reminding Jimin of a cat, feline and sharp. He has the mannerisms of one, too, always so well put together and haughty.

“The Moon Goddess only gives us one life, Omega Park, we must thank her for her graciousness with our efforts to make the best of it.” He turns to Jimin slowly, giving him a once over that leaves Jimin’s skin crawling.

Jimin always forgot that Beta Woo was extremely devout and had no qualms with guilting everyone around him for being less pious than he thought he was. Even the pack’s priest didn’t passive aggressively pass on the Moon Goddess’s teachings the way Beta Woo did.

“Of course, Beta Woo,” Jimin says as cheerfully as he can manage. “The Moon Goddess gives her blessings so generously that we must always endeavour to return her kindness however we can.”

“Mmm,” he hums, always suspicious of everyone else’s sincerity. “Well spoken. What is it that I can do for you?”

“I just wanted to know how things are going. I know there have been a lot of,” Jimin pauses, finding the right word. “Disruptions, but hopefully you and your team are on schedule?”

“I am but a humble beta, Omega Park. The machinations of alphas hungry for power hardly concern me and I extend the same expectations to my team.”

Jimin remembers why it is he likes Beta Woo despite the preaching.

“That’s very encouraging to hear. Is there anything you need to ensure your progress? You’re not short staffed are you?” Jimin glances around the square and sees that most of the stalls have already been built here. A good half have been occupied by their assigned merchants, too.

“Eager hands ready to serve would never be refused,” Beta Woo says, blinking slowly at Jimin. His scent reminds Jimin of clover and the current tinge of it even comes across as pleased. 

Jimin does his best to hide his own smile. “I’ll see if — ”

“Watch out!” someone screams, the voice laced with concern. 

Confused, Jimin twists toward the sound and sees a wooden pillar swinging down right toward him and Beta Woo. He barely has a moment to think before he’s pushing Beta Woo out of the way as hard as he can, and preparing to be crushed by the thick column.

The wooden pillar crashes down next to him with a thundering boom, dust and debris flying everywhere, and crushing a number of stalls. Jimin finds himself wrapped in amber and strong arms, cocooned into a hard chest, his heartbeat hammering against his ribcage. He stands numb from the shock, mind lagging to make sense of what had just happened.

At some point, Jeongguk had yanked him from under the pillar’s trajectory, twisting him around so that it was Jeongguk’s back that faced the pillar. He doesn’t understand how it missed, how Jeongguk managed to get to him so quickly from across the town square.

The square is deathly quiet for only a moment before loud yelling and shouting break the silence apart as people start asking if everyone is okay. Jimin still feels paralyzed, his fingers curled so tightly in Jeongguk’s hanbok that they hurt.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk calls his name so softly, so tenderly that Jimin almost bursts into tears.

“I’m — I’m okay,” he rasps out, giving himself only another second of safety in Jeongguk’s arms before pulling back. “Are you? Your back — ”

“I’m fine,” Jeongguk assures, taking just enough of a step back to confirm with his own eyes that Jimin is unhurt. He almost twirls Jimin around as he looks him over, a frantic edge to his touch. 

“Who the fuck was putting that column up?” Jeongguk snarls with such a force that even Jimin feels a chill run through him, his hand gripping Jeongguk’s arm to steady himself. The alpha whips around, staring at the various workers with such a fury that Jimin thinks he may have to calm him down.

A beta comes running toward Jimin and Jeongguk, apologies already slipping from her mouth. “We’re so sorry Omega Park,” she scrambles out, bowing over and over again. “The rope tying the post down while we hammered it in place frayed and the whole thing came down. Are you okay? I can go get a healer — ”

“Bring me the rope!” Jeongguk snaps, tired of her excuses. His scent roils out, sharp and acrid, and Jimin can’t help but recall the day he first met Jeongguk. She jumps on the spot and scampers off, eager to get away.

“I’m really okay,” Jimin assures, hoping to calm Jeongguk down. He’s exuding such a menacing presence that no one else dares come up to them. “I promise.”

“Just how many times is this damn pack going to put you in danger?” Jeongguk seethes, wrapping an arm protectively around Jimin once again. The bond pulses with the same fury Jeongguk spits out and Jimin is surprised that Jeongguk is allowing his feelings to come through with such a ferocity. “Fucking useless pieces of shit.”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin tries again, wrapping his arms around the rogue. He very tentatively lets his head rest in the crook of Jeongguk’s shoulder, scenting Jeongguk lightly. Jimin doesn't dare let his nose drag over Jeongguk’s skin, only hovering over it. “Please, I’m okay. It was a mistake and — and even if it wasn't, you saved me.”

Jeongguk’s scent simmers down just a little, his heart beating faster than Jimin’s own. Jimin can hear it through his chest, can feel his anger through their bond. He rubs a hand up and down Jeongguk’s spine, stifling a surprised mewl when he feels Jeongguk’s hand wrap around the back of his neck.

Shivers run down his spine and Jeongguk seems to settle, Jimin’s nose ghosting over the curve between his neck and shoulder. Jimin can’t even reach his scent gland from their angle, Jeongguk too tall to reach.

Behind him, he can hear the stomp of guards rushing into the square, of the continued panic of everyone confirming that no one is hurt. Just for a moment longer, Jimin lets it be someone else’s problem.

“You were on the other side of the square,” Jimin says, the words muffled into Jeongguk’s chest.

“I told you I would never let anyone hurt you again.” Jeongguk’s thumb digs up the back of Jimin’s neck until it’s rubbing circles right against the base of Jimin’s neck. Jimin’s fingers twist into his hanbok, something hot burning through him until he can feel it simmer in his belly.

“You said you wouldn’t let Kang hurt me,” Jimin corrects, smiling stupidly. “Are you saying Kang’s ghost is attempting to hurt me?”

“I will protect you from anyone,” Jeongguk says with such conviction that of course Jimin believes him. He pulls away from Jimin just so he can pin Jimin with his eyes, burn him through with the intensity of his certainty. Jimin doesn’t miss the flash of red or the serious, determined slant of his mouth.

“Okay,” Jimin grants easily. “I believe you.”

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to want to let go of him so Jimin allows himself the pleasure of leaning against him. But he still needs to ensure everyone is okay; stalls could be repaired. He turns his attention back to the town square, seeking Beta Woo out. He finds the man leaning against one of the stalls with two other people next to him, checking on him. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been hurt, he doesn’t hear any cries for help.

The beta who had come to apologise to them lurks on the periphery of Jimin’s vision and he almost laughs, pulling away from Jeongguk just enough to beckon her over.

She seems to have gathered every length of rope that had been used to pull the pillar up from fear of Jeongguk’s reaction, bringing them a wheelbarrow filled with it. Yoongi really had been right; having a personal guard worked wonders.

“Thank-you.” Jimin is about to take the handles of the wheelbarrow from her when Jeongguk steps in front of him and takes them instead. He shoos the girl off with a scowl, clearly lacking any and all patience with everyone who isn’t Jimin.

“Are you going to protect me from the wheelbarrow, too?” he grins, can’t help but tease Jeongguk for his precociousness. 

“If I’m here, there’s no reason you should be lugging this around,” Jeongguk answers simply, already looking over the strands of rope. “Go, check on everyone like I know you want to and then we’re going home.”

Jimin’s eyes widen, catching on Jeongguk’s words. 

Home.

He’d called it home. Jimin has to force himself to move, not wanting to draw attention to himself, to alert Jeongguk to what he’d said if it was only a slip of the tongue.

The hope that Jimin had so desperately been trying to squash down, to put out, glows brighter and hotter than ever before. It threatens to burn Jimin down.

Would Jeongguk stay?

“There’s no way it was just an accident, Jimin,” Taehyung insists, his earthy scent pungent with his anger. “It must be whoever killed Kang.”

“They’re trying to tie up all their loose ends,” Yoongi agrees, leaning forward, his arm resting on the table.

“No one saw anything? How could someone have cut the rope and gotten away so quickly?” Hoseok questions, pulling his cup of tea closer to himself.

They’ve all gathered for dinner, each of his friends finding their way to Jimin once they’d heard of the incident in the town square. Jimin thinks that maybe he should simply start avoiding the town square given how nothing good ever seems to happen there anymore.

Namjoon had left early to go back to Hyojung, untrusting of the two guards they’d left her with.

“There were four ropes holding it up, each one going off in a different direction,” Jeongguk says, tongue poking into his cheek. “Between the stalls and the decorations, it’d be impossible to watch every single point. The culprit took advantage of that. The ropes were very obviously cut.”

“This is fucking ridiculous!” Taehyung exclaims, fist slamming down against the table. Everyone’s cup bounces up, tea spilling across the table. Their empty dinner dishers clatters against one another and Jimin has to reach out a hand to catch a bowl that nearly falls right off. “How can someone get way with so much? I thought we had all of the guards helping Kang apprehended.”

“No one got hurt,” Jimin says, attempting to soothe Taehyung. He rubs his friend’s back, allowing his own scent to seek Taehyung out and offer him some comfort. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“This is the second time someone’s tried to hurt you,” Taehyung cries out wetly, tears brimming his eyes. “You could have died!”

Jimin worms a little closer to Taehyung, understands his worry and his grief. He’d been dazed for a while after the incident, grateful to have Jeongguk by his side. The pillar had crushed so many stalls that he’d had to promise Beta Won extra hands. Where he would get them from was anyone’s guess.

“I’m okay,” Jimin murmurs, thinks he would find it humorous that he’s the one consoling everyone today when it’s his life that keeps being threatened but the anxiety roils in his belly, sitting heavily on his chest.

“Well, we know Kang has an accomplice or a partner,” Yoongi says, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “This means he was never in it just for himself but who could have been helping him?”

“Someone at the infirmary?” Hoseok offers, reminding the room that they had yet to find whoever had drugged Jimin and poisoned Jimin’s father. Once Kang’s death had gotten out, they’d revealed that Jimin had been drugged, too. To protect him, they hadn’t mentioned that Jimin’s heat had been induced but had claimed he’d been given something that had slowed his mind down, that he’d been dizzy and sluggish, unable to property defend himself.

It was enough for them to officially launch an investigation into the infirmary so they could start questioning the healers in earnest rather than just having Hoseok poke around. To his credit, his snooping had given them a starting point: Hoseok’s suspicions lied heavily with Healer Yoo and a group of apprentices that she was training herself.

Jeongguk, who had sat himself between Jimin and Yoongi rather intentionally, turns to Yoongi, brows furrowed together. “Didn’t one of the guards confess that they were following Jimin around?”

“They were tailing him,” Yoongi confirms, his scowl deepening. “Kang had ordered them to never let Jimin out of their sight.”

“Could a guard have been the one to mix the poison in?”

“I don’t think they would have taken the chance,” Hoseok disagrees, shaking his head. “Healer Yoo is almost always the one to deliver the medicine and she’s never let anyone else prepare it. At least, not the medicine for Jimin’s father. It’s why I think it must be her or one of her apprentices. She teaches them in a room adjacent to her work room. They have relatively free access to the room, too.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Jimin says, unable to fathom why someone from the infirmary would be helping Kang out. “What could Kang possibly offer a healer or even Healer Yoo that they would risk their careers?”

“Kang was unmated, correct?” Jeongguk asks.

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, nodding. “He always said his duty was to the patrol, that he had no time for a mate.”

“You think Kang was courting one of the healers?” Taehyung exclaims, catching on far quicker than the rest of the room.

“It’s entirely possible. People are always willing to go to great lengths for love.” The room goes silent after Jeongguk’s conclusion, a shiver of disgust running through Jimin at the idea of anyone finding Kang desirable enough to go to such lengths for.

“But then why kill Kang?” Yoongi asks, finding a hole in their theory.

“They didn’t want to get caught,” Jeongguk answers simply. “I never said love wasn’t fickle.”

Jimin groans, feels a headache coming on. The combined scents of everyone in the room aren’t doing him any favours either. “We’re not going to get anywhere for the time being. We need more information and I need my sleep.”

“You deserve it,” Taehyung agrees, already reaching out to pull Jimin into a hug. “Please stop scaring me okay.”

Jimin laughs, patting Taehyung’s back. “I’ll ask whoever’s trying to kill me to please stop.”

Yoongi snorts, rising to his feet. “Come on, Taehyung.”

He’s about to head for the door when he halts, looking down at Jeongguk with an uneasy expression. Jimin’s skin prickles, preparing to interject when Yoongi surprises him.

“Thank-you for saving Jimin,” he says, the tips of ears turning red. His scent swirls around the room, the embarrassment turning it sweeter and sweeter, almost sickeningly so. “Again.”

Jeongguk offers Yoongi the same blank-faced indifference he offers everyone who isn’t Jimin. “He’s my mate.”

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, the room stilling once more.

“He wasn’t your mate the first time,” Taehyung says rather gracelessly, ignoring how everyone has grown tense. At times Jimin wonders if he even realises how tactless he is.

Jeongguk’s mouth purses into a thin line and Taehyung grins, too big and too pleased with himself. He gives Jimin a conspiratory look, biting back a cry when Jimin elbows him.

“Well!” Hoseok exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I think we’d all better get some sleep. It’s been another long day.”

The room empties out rather quickly after that, the sun having set some time ago. Jimin blows out the lanterns outside of his room, his gaze lingering over his parents’ room. There’s no light shining through the rice paper.

They’ve gone to sleep, too.

His father is still unconscious but on Jimin’s last visit, he’d been delighted to see some of the colour returning to his face. Even his scent had seemed less sick, the scent of rot diminishing. He’s hopeful that his father will awaken soon, has seen the zeal in his mother’s eyes.

Inside the room, Jeongguk has begun clearing the table of dishes.

“Leave them,” Jimin says, hurrying over to help. “I can take them in the morning.”

“You’re going to sleep,” Jeongguk tells him, pointing to Jimin’s nest in the corner. He looks up at Jimin as he stands, their perspectives shifting once he’s at full height. Jimin feels heat rise to his cheeks, a flicker of annoyance telling him that he doesn’t appreciate Jeongguk telling him what to do in that no-nonsense tone of his. “I can clean up.”

“I told you I was okay,” Jimin argues, moving to take the dishes in Jeongguk’s hands.

Jeongguk moves them out of Jimin’s reach, a brow arching up at Jimin’s behaviour. “And I told you to go to sleep.”

“I’m not some helpless — ” Jimin starts, abruptly cut off when Jeongguk takes a dangerous step close to him, leaving barely any space between the two of them. Jimin’s resolve waivers, heat rising to his face as he’s forced to stare back at Jeongguk’s unwavering gaze.

“Are you going to listen, Omega Park?” Jeongguk sounds almost displeased and Jimin finds himself rooted to the spot. To his great humiliation, he remembers how his knees had given out from under him, how he’d found his robe slick and wet with his own cum, his first and only orgasm, all because Jeongguk’s sheer presence had been too much for Jimin to withstand.

The bond buzzes with delight and Jimin finds it difficult to breathe.

“It’ll be — It’ll be quicker to…um,” Jimin starts, unable to finish this thought. Jeongguk’s scent has grown so strong that Jimin is dizzy from the assault of amber, the darker, boozier notes evoking something hot inside of him. He almost slips up, almost reaches out for Jeongguk, to steady himself.

“To what? To go to sleep like I suggested.”

“You hard — hardly suggested,” Jimin retorts, taking a step back. It’s a mistake because Jeongguk only takes another step closer, leaving even less room between them now.

Jimin’s head spins.

Jeongguk dips down, mouth finding Jimin’s ear, his breath hot against the shell. “You’re right. I gave you an instruction. Are you telling me it’s too difficult to follow, Jimin?”

Jimin swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “No, I mean, y-you — ”

“Mmm, then be a good boy,” Jeongguk says, so quietly that Jimin shivers, eyes squeezing shut, “and go lie down.”

He manages a jerky nod, blinking through his stupor as Jeongguk smirks, and steps around him. He disappears out the door and Jimin is left standing there, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

He refuses to acknowledge the burn of arousal that simmers in his belly or the way he can smell his own wetness. Jimin blushes, heat flooding through his body and scrambles toward his nest, eager to hide the evidence.

Jimin doesn’t fall asleep. Instead, he lies in his nest and very resolutely refrains from burying his nose into the jeogori Jeongguk had given him for said nest. When he’d first made his nest, he’d made it around the sleeping mat Jeongguk had used and relied almost solely on that for even a hint of Jeongguk’s scent.

Now, he has the real thing and by all accounts, he should really take it apart but Jimin finds far more comfort in it than he’s willing to admit. It’s difficult to sleep when he knows there is someone out there actively hoping he would just die. Harder still, when the day’s memories are still so fresh.

He tries to focus on the sounds of Jeongguk shuffling in and out of the room, hands filled with dishes. When he doesn’t come back for a good five minutes, Jimin strains his hearing to catch the sound of dishes being washed, a little shocked that Jeongguk has gone this far to take care of him. Eventually, the sounds disappear and Jeongguk returns to the room.

He stills in the doorframe, letting out a sigh. It sounds almost fond.

“I told you to sleep.”

“How is this my fault?” Jimin says, a little embarrassed at how whiny he sounds. “I’m not even tired.”

“Did you even try?” Jeongguk asks, walking closer and closer. His own sleeping mat is laid out next to Jimin’s.

When he’d come back with Hyojung, Jimin had half-expected Jeongguk to ask for his own room. Instead, he’d slept in Jimin’s room every night, his sleeping mat always placed right next to Jimin’s. It reminded Jimin of the week he’d spent lying next to Jeongguk, so terrified that the alpha would stop breathing if Jimin looked away for even a moment.

“I did,” Jimin lies, watching as Jeongguk removes his outer robe and his jeogori. He never removes his necklace, the claws sitting against his collarbones. He always sleeps in just his pants and maybe Jimin had just wanted to see his bare skin stretched over his well sculpted chest before he attempted to sleep. He makes no admission to enjoying the sight of Jeongguk’s slim waist or the trail of hair that disappears from Jeongguk’s navel into his pants.

Jeongguk walks around the room, Jimin’s eyes trailing after him, and blows out the three lanterns before returning to Jimin. The scars that litter his back feature heavily in Jimin’s nightmares, sobering him right up.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Jeongguk says, lying down on his sleeping mat. He faces Jimin, his head pillowed on Jimin’s old pillow. He’d settled for using one of Jeongguk’s outer robes as a makeshift pillow, preferring to fall asleep to sweet amber.

Jimin blinks, swallowing around his anxiety. “How?”

“You hide nothing in your scent,” Jeongguk tells him, lips quirking into a smug smile.

Jimin is grateful that in the dark, Jeongguk can’t see how quickly he turns red, embarrassment flooding through him. “I’m not that obvious!”

Jeongguk laughs, the sound filling the room and so full of delight that Jimin forgets himself, forgets where he is. Jeongguk has never laughed before, not like this.

“You’re worse than most of your pack,” Jeongguk grins, a hand slipping under his pillow. “You pack wolves can get away with it, though.”

Jimin traces the line of Jeongguk’s arm, his bicep curled inwards, the muscle flexing. He doesn’t think both his hands together could even wrap around it.

“Is it that hard…out there, by yourself?” Jimin asks, hesitant. It’s a silly question because of course it’s hard to eke out survival all on your own but he wants to know more about Jeongguk. He’s been careful not to press him for information, nervous that if he does, Jeongguk will simply shut him out. But he takes the risk tonight, recalling how easily Jeongguk had called him his mate.

That meant something, right?

“What do you think?” Jeongguk doesn’t sound accusatory but Jimin’s stomach sinks, feeling stupid for saying anything at all. He’s about to apologise, to bid Jeongguk a goodnight when the alpha continues.

“I was eight when my pack was attacked,” he tells Jimin, rolling to lie flat on his back. Jimin misses his eyes immediately. “A rival pack, hungry for our land, attacked us in the dead of night and killed everyone. I survived only because my father hid me away in a hollowed tree. She commanded me to stay. I couldn’t move and all I could hear were the voices of my pack screaming, of fire burning everything to the ground. I was…I was so terrified, my scent disappeared, sucked right into my body.”

Jimin doesn’t dare move a muscle, doesn’t dare breathe, so shocked that Jeongguk would share all of this with him. He’d practically given up on learning anything about Jeongguk’s past.

Jeongguk rolls his head over to him, offering Jimin a sad smile. “I was almost found but once my scent disappeared, the wolves trying to sniff me out lost interest.”

Jimin’s mind is racing, catching and stumbling on Jeongguk’s age. Eight years old. He’d been eight years old. The question slips out of him, “How…how long…?”

“Have I been a rogue? Some twenty years,” Jeongguk answers.

“And you were alone the whole time?” Jimin’s voice cracks, tears spilling past his eyes quicker than he can control them. His chest aches, unable to comprehend how anyone could have no one to rely on, to comfort them, to love them.

“Not the whole time,” Jeongguk answers, shuffling closer, his expression fond. “I didn’t tell you this so you’d cry.” He reaches out and wipes Jimin’s cheek and Jimin takes a hold of his hand, tucking it under his chin and cradling it to his chest. Jeongguk’s eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t pull his hand back, allowing Jimin to offer him something.

“How did you survive?” Jimin asks, every thought just tumbling out of his mouth. “You were eight! How could you have survived? What about — what about your pack? There was no one else? How did you get away?”

“My scent had disappeared and our pack lived close to a large river. I walked along it for days until I found myself outside the city walls of Hanseong.”

“And someone helped you?”

Jeongguk looks like he regrets telling Jimin any of this but answers anyways. “I was a street rat.”

“You were an orphan,” Jimin exclaims, pushing himself up in his outrage. “Someone should have helped you or taken you in or — or — ”

“I’d lost my family, my pack. I didn’t want to swear loyalty to anyone else and no one will take in a kid, orphan or not, who refuses to pledge fealty to the Pack Leader,” Jeongguk says, tugging his hand away from Jimin so that he can gently guide Jimin back down into his nest.

“I survived, didn’t I?” he adds, his scent sweet and comforting and Jimin should be the one making Jeongguk feel better. “Got out of the city and lived off the land.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Jimin says, still upset, still angry. He wipes at his eyes, sniffling. “Someone should have helped you, should be helping any rogue. You still matter.”

“Mmm,” Jeongguk hums, lying back down. He watches Jimin, lets him calm down, never pulling his scent back once. “It’s not all bad.”

Jimin is about to protest, about to remind Jeongguk that he’d been so scared his body had physically altered itself when Jeongguk adds:

“I found you.”

Jimin is so stupefied that he lies there, mouth opening and closing, his heart beating so quickly he thinks it might give out.

“I mean it, too,” Jeongguk continues, staring at the awestruck look on Jimin’s face. He looks serious, hopeful. The words ring through Jimin’s head on command.

He’s my mate.

A warmth blooms in Jimin’s chest, spreading out farther and farther until Jimin feels like he’s floating. He’s never felt happiness like this, euphoric and gleeful, as if Jimin has been scooped up by the sun itself.

Jimin thinks it may be love. 

Something like it.

Jimin walks into his parents’ room with a tea platter in hand.

His mother had woken up earlier than normal so Jimin had decided he would check on her and his father before heading out for the day.

He’d asked Jeongguk if he wouldn’t mind checking on the town square without him, just to see if they’d been able to start repairs, a little hesitant to make the request, but Jeongguk had gone without complaint, wearing one of the hanbok’s Jimin had asked the tailor to make for him. He’d even helped to tie the sleeves of the jeogori down, Jeongguk complaining that he didn’t like how much they draped and dragged. 

Even now, Jimn can’t help the smile that slips across his face as he thinks about Jeongguk, that same giddiness he had gone to sleep with bursting through him. He’s no longer plagued with the thought that Jeongguk will leave, hope burning steadily in his chest.

“Eomma?” Jimin calls, looking around the room. Had she stepped out?

He sets the platter down, kneeling next to his father’s sleeping form. Hoseok had really done wonders on him. Gone is the sickly pallor of his skin, the acrid tinge of his scent. He still looks thin but Jimin is sure that his father will eat through twice his weight in a few days to regain his vitality.

“How are you feeling, Appa?” Jimin asks, stroking his father’s head. He takes his father’s hand in his own, content to see any progress in his father at all. He finds himself thinking out loud, sharing a rare moment alone with his father. “I wonder how you’re going to take the news. I won’t talk to you if you’re unkind to him so you’d better be on your best behaviour.”

“Are you preparing him for your mate?” his mother laughs, her voice coming up behind him.

Jimin turns, grinning at her. “He’s going to be so difficult, I just know it.”

“Of course he is. His only son is mated and he didn’t even get to terrorise the alpha first.” She walks into the room, taking a seat across from Jimin’s tea platter. 

“I don’t know how successful he’d be at terrorising Jeongguk,” Jimin laughs, watching as his mother pours them both a cup of tea. He takes the offered cup gratefully, letting his attention return to his father. “He looks so much better, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” his mother murmurs, relief in her words. “The bond feels stronger, too. I told you he’d get better.”

“You did,” Jimin smiles, agreeing easily. He takes a sip of his tea, pushing the platter out of the way so he can sit closer to her, feel her warmth. She hasn’t even changed out of her sleeping clothes, but it’s early, the sun has barely risen. “I never understood it, you know. Your faith. But I get it now.”

“Our Jiminie is growing up, hmm?” she teases, pinching his cheek. “I should have urged you to get a mate sooner.”

Jimin wrinkles his nose, head shaking. “I don’t want anyone but Jeongguk.”

“You haven’t even bitten him in return,” she comments, her scent subtle, hesitant. Jimin knows she’s worried, knows she noticed how much it affected his health when Jeongguk had left. She hasn’t said it out loud, but Jimin is quite sure she’s grown suspicious of them, has mentioned the incomplete bond a few times now. Maybe she’s worried that Jeongguk will leave him or worse, that Jimin will leave with Jeongguk, unable to refuse the alpha. Yoongi had said as much to him one night, asking Jimin outright if Jeongguk could leave Jimn with an incomplete bond, essentially leaving Jimin permanently dependent on Jeongguk’s good will.

Incomplete bonds where alphas bit their mates and did not let them bite them in return weren’t unheard of. There were alphas who had multiple mates this way and Jimin can’t imagine how terrible the grief would be, the agony of having to share someone who should be wholly his. But Jimin can’t fathom a reality where Jeongguk would hurt him like this.

He feels so sure that it hardly worries him.

And he'd told Yoongi as much, is prepared to assure his mother in kind.

“Once Appa is okay and the Harvest Festival passes, I’ll ask him then,” Jimin says, squeezing her hand. “He won’t abandon me, Eomma.”

“Who…who won’t abandon you?”

Jimin’s eyes widen, his mother’s tea cup nearly slipping out her hands.

“Sungjoon,” she says in disbelief, crawling toward him. She abandons her tea cup, her scent fraught with concern, and Jimin shuffles back just enough to allow her to lean in closer.

Jimin stares at his father, watches as he struggles to open his eyes, brows furrowing together. For the first time in months, his scent seeps into the room anew. He smells like the fir trees that surround their village, like moss and clean forest air.

“Appa?” Jimin’s voice shakes, his heartbeat slowing down.

It feels like the world has come to a stop. Jimin can hardly believe his eyes, tears burning in his eyes. His father squints against the sunlight, blinking up at his mate, pushing himself to focus, to take her in.

A sob wracks through his mother, echoed in Jimin. He can’t move, his breaths come out too quick, chest rising and falling rapidly in its haste to make sense of what Jimin is seeing.

His father, who had spent nearly two months unconscious, has woken up.

He’s smiling, eyes slipping shut again. Jimin’s mother is clinging to him, her weeping loud and jubilant, filled with relief. 

“Yoona,” his father says, voice hoarse from disuse. He’s confused, distraught at her crying. He looks toward Jimin, and Jimin presses a hand to his mouth to quell the sound of his own sobs. 

“Appa, appa,” Jimin cries, “you’re awake. You’re really awake.”

He needs to go get Hoseok, to move but it feels as though months worth of anxiety, of tension has seeped out of his body, rendering him useless. His father is alive. His father is looking at him. His father is curling an arm around his mother, rubbing her back in comfort.

“I’m, I’m just going to get Hoseok,” Jimin manages, a tremble running through him. The shock transforms into giddiness, a smile splitting his face in half. He can’t get up quick enough, hears his father mumble out Hoseok’s name as if wondering what his nephew is doing here.

“Hoseok! Hobi-hyung!” Jimin shouts, running to his cousin’s room. He finds Hoseok already up and awake, having just slipped out of his door. Jimin’s pace picks up and he practically sprints, feels like if he spread his arms out he’d sprout wings, his happiness carrying him like a bird in the breeze.

“Jimin?” Hoseok chokes out, catching an armful of Jimin barrelling into him. He stumbles back, hitting the door behind him and lets out a bewildered laugh. “What’s going on?”

“Appa is awake! You did it!” Tears stream down Jimin’s face, and Hoseok clutches him back just as tightly, his scent soaring. 

“He’s awake?”

“He’s awake!” Jimin laughs, already pulling away from Hoseok. He finds him gaping like a fish out of water and Jimin pulls him along easily, taking him back to his parents’ room.

When they get there, his mother’s crying has finally eased and Hoseok clambers over to Jimin’s father’s other side, gently instructing his father to look at him. He watches, transfixed in the doorway, as Hoseok runs through a series of exercises with his father, slowly explaining that he’s been in more or less a coma, how he’d fallen ill.

To his father’s credit, he takes it in stride, nodding along. Hoseok is kind and patient and makes no mention of the poisoning. Jimin will have to explain that later, when he’s in better condition. Moon Goddess above, how was he going to explain everything that had happened?

As much as he wants to go and hug his father, to kiss him, feel the warmth of his skin sink into him himself, all a testament that he is alive, he waits. He allows his mother the time to take her mate in, to be assured that her faith, her steadfast devotion have been rewarded. He’s alive.

More than anything, Jimin wishes Jeongguk were here. He finds himself yearning for his mate’s scent, for his touch. He wants to share this happiness with Jeongguk.

Despite himself, Jimin cranes his head toward the front gate, as if Jeongguk would simply materialise because he missed him enough.

Imagine his delight when he finds Jeongguk standing there, a basket from the kitchens in hand. Concern furrows across his face, his gaze flickering between Jimin and his parents’ room and it feels as though the sun has come out after a long, grey winter.

Jimin is running before he even knows it, he’s throwing himself into Jeongguk’s arms, a grunt escaping the alpha as he catches him one armed. He’s burrowing his face into Jeongguk’s neck, squeezing as tightly as he possibly can. He can’t contain his happiness.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk starts, his concern turning into confusion.

Jimin pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes, feels breathless in his joy. “Appa woke up!”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, the bond thrumming between them with satisfaction. “He’s okay?”

“Hoseok-hyung is checking on him but he’s talking and moving around. You have to meet him!” Jimin slips out of Jeongguk’s hold, already taking him by the hand. He tugs to lead Jeongguk to his parents’ room but Jeongguk doesn’t budge and Jimin looks back, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think he needs to meet me at this very moment,” Jeongguk says slowly, sets down the basket he’d been holding. He steps closer to Jimin, looking toward the house before fixing his gaze on Jimin. “He’s…He’s already taking a lot in. Maybe it’s best we wait.”

He makes perfect sense and yet Jimin’s heart sinks.

“I’m not saying — ”

“No, I know you’re right,” Jimin cuts in quickly, doesn’t want to hear Jeongguk apologising for being reasonable. He can’t help but feel crushed, maybe even a little stupid. Just because things had started to get better, didn’t mean he should lose touch with reality. How would he explain to his father that he had a mate, one who wasn’t even from the pack?

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk says softly, cupping Jimin’s face in his hands.

Jimin blinks back tears, shaking his head. “I’m being stupid.”

“You’re excited, it’s okay,” Jeongguk murmurs, dabbing at Jimin’s wet eyes. “I’m happy he’s recovering and you can take as long as you need, but that beta who works at the town hall, Yerim?”

Jimin nods, confirming her name.

“She approached me when I went to get breakfast, said she needed to talk to you urgently. It’s about Kang.”

“About Kang?” Jimin repeats, blinking. “What could she…? Did she say where she’d be?”

“I told her you’d meet her at town hall.”

“Let me, let me say goodbye to Eomma and Appa and we can head over.”

“You can — ”

“No, this is important,” Jimin says firmly, mind already racing. What could Yerim know and why was she coming forward with it now? “If whatever she tells us gets us closer to putting an end to this nightmare, then I want to know.”

“Okay,” Jeongguk says, nodding. He lets Jimin go, handing the basket to him. “You should eat something.”

Jimin offers him a smile, wishing he could offer more. “I will, Alpha.”

He laughs at the look of bewilderment that crosses over Jeongguk’s features, already heading back to his parents’ room. He grins to himself, enjoying the experience of teasing Jeongguk, feels the world righting itself around him.

Everything would be okay.

Jimin looks up when the door to his office opens. Yerim walks in first, followed closely by Yoongi and Jeongguk. He’d found Yoongi waiting for him in his office when he and Jeongguk had finally made it in, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation at hand as he’d exclaimed about his father’s recovery. Yoongi had hugged him immediately, ecstatic, and even through his joy, Jimin had seen the way Jeongguk’s jaw had clenched as he’d watched Yoongi touch him.

He’d asked Yoongi to bring Yerim to the office but Jeongguk had tailed along. Jimin had suppressed his grin, endeared by Jeongguk’s childishness.

“Yerim, please come in,” Jimin greets, offering a seat to her in front of him. Jeongguk lingers by the door, leaning against the wall and Yoongi takes a seat by the window at the back of the room.

Yerim looks nervous, suspicion arising in Jimin at how her scent sours in the room. She’s unable to look him in the eye when she finally walks to Jimin’s desk, bowing and offering him a subdued, “Omega Park.”

“Is everything okay, Yerim? Jeongguk said you had something to tell me,” Jimin says, eyes flickering from Yoongi to Jeongguk. They both don’t seem to know anymore than he does. The thought that she had some kind of confession, admitting to helping Kang crosses his mind and he hopes that’s not it. He likes Yerim. She's a sweet girl, diligent and thus far, trustworthy.

She glances around, hands wringing in her lap but seems to finally build up the courage to look at Jimin. “Alpha Kang was here a few days ago…before his death.”

Jimin masks his surprise as best he can, nodding at her encouragingly. Behind Yerim, he can see the look of shock that passes over Yoongi’s face, his scent strengthening. Kang had been on house arrest. He shouldn’t have been out of his house at all.

“I was surprised to see him,” she continues, sucking in a deep breath. There are dark circles under her eyes, her lips bitten raw. “But I…I thought maybe he’d been granted leave or something, I don’t know. I’m — I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier, Omega Park. I — He died the next day and I was so scared, I kept thinking maybe they saw me, too, and I’d be next.”

“I’m sorry, Yerim,” Jimin cuts in sharply. Yerim startles at his tone and Jimin regrets it immediately. He softens his expression, allowing his scent to bloom out comfortingly. “What do you mean ‘they saw me’? Who saw you?”

“When Kang came, he was demanding to speak to someone and barged into one of the sitting rooms. I’d been on my way out, it must have been after seven or eight in the evening. The bell had tolled a little while earlier. I was tired and had only just rounded the corner when I saw him arguing with someone. I didn’t catch a name and I was too scared to go closer to the room and I mean, I thought it would be rude to eavesdrop.”

“Did you hear anything regarding what he was saying?” Jimin asks, leaning in ever so slightly.

“He mentioned something about how he wouldn’t go down like this, that he’d take them with him.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?” Jeongguk asks, not bothering to hide his annoyance. His scent is crisp and sharp, amber cutting through Yerim’s muddled, petrified scent.

“I just — I thought it was nothing,” Yerim blabbers, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. “He came to the town hall all the time to talk to members of the Council and boss some of us administrators around. I — I know it was stupid of me, careless but I was scared. He — He always terrified me.”

“It’s okay, Yerim,” Jimin soothes, doing his best to temper his own feelings of disbelief. How had she thought it was nothing when Kang had nearly gotten him raped and forcefully bonded? “Please take a deep breath. Try to remember if there’s anything else you saw or heard that could help us out.”

“I’m so sorry Omega Park,” she sobs, wiping at her eyes furiously. “I should have come sooner.”

In her defence, Kang had only died a few days ago. They hadn’t even held the funeral yet because Jimin, and thankfully Elder Pil, had both been adamant in ruling out that it was a suicide. They didn’t want to miss any evidence and Jimin had asked for multiple healers to do the autopsy given that someone had been working with Kang. Every single healer had concluded that he'd been poisoned with Blood Moon berries.

“You came now and that is still immeasurably helpful. Do you remember anything else?”

She shakes her head. “No, I left quickly after I saw Kang. Yesterday, when I heard that you were almost crushed in the town square, I…I wanted to come speak to you right away.”

“Thank-you, Yerim,” Jimin says, resisting the urge to rub at his face. It was irrefutable then. Someone on the Council was the one helping Kang or acting as his partner. Still, how had Kang slipped out? Had someone from the guard allowed it? And if he’d come to the town hall, his partner couldn’t just be Elder Kim.

Ever since Jimin had stripped her of her role, she’d been incredibly cooperative. Jimin isn’t even sure if she was involved in this whole plot, or if she had simply been caught in the whirlpool and dragged down with Kang.

“You can go, Yerim. Don’t worry about your duties today, go home and get some rest.”

“Thank-you, Omega Park,” she mumbles, pushing herself to stand. She bows in gratitude and hurries out of the room, shrinking away from Jeongguk as she passes by him.

Jimin waits until he’s sure Yerim is far enough away before turning his attention to Yoongi. “Hyung, do you have any idea who was guarding Kang the night before his death?”

“I can find out,” Yoongi answers, already getting to his feet. He looks from Jimin to Jeongguk, expression grim. “This means whoever was helping him is on the Council.”

“It could be Elder Won,” Jimin suggests, standing up as well. “It would explain how they managed to poison Appa or drug me. Every healer knows him and respects him.”

“Do you think he wanted Kang to be Pack Leader?” Yoongi asks and try as he might, Jimin can’t remember a single scenario where Elder Won had spoken up for Kang. In fact, he only ever looked mildly annoyed that Kang ate up any of their time at all.

“Honestly, who knows,” Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. His shoulders are tight with tension, pain beginning to grow between his shoulder blades. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“We need to weed whoever it is out,” Jeongguk says, his arms uncrossing as he pushes off the wall. He walks toward Jimin and Yoongi, stopping short of Jimin’s desk. “They’re getting sloppy which means they’re panicked and afraid that they’re going to get caught.”

“But how do we lure them out?” Jimin questions, too tired to be shocked that someone on the Council had been working with Kang this entire time. The thought is despicable. These people had been working with his father for years.

“I have a plan.”

Jimin has been praying for the better part of an hour now, seated in front of the altar of the Moon Goddess.

Jeongguk’s plan had been simple.

He’d suggested they let out the news that Jimin’s father had woken up, that he was improving, and to hold off on making the announcement until the day before the Harvest Festival. Either the culprit would try and attempt to hurt Jimin’s father again or furious, they’d go after Jimin again, just like they had at the town square.

With all of the incoming packs, the village would be so busy that an attempt on Jimin’s life could easily be made to look like another accident. Yoongi hadn’t liked the idea of using Jimin as bait at all but Jeongguk had dismissed his concern, stating rather firmly that he’d sooner die himself than let anything happen to Jimin.

That had shut Yoongi up and had left Jimin wide eyed.

Even now, Jeongguk has hidden himself in the temple. When he’d shrunk his scent into himself, Yoongi had been baffled, all of his usual distaste of Jeongguk flying out the door as he’d exclaimed about Jeongguk’s unique ability, demanding to be told how he’d done it. Jeongguk had seemed mildly amused and rather smug, giving Yoongi the same answer he’d given Jimin: rogues didn’t share their secrets.

They’d stationed Seokjin and two more members of his guard at the house to ensure that no one could sneak in and hurt Jimin’s parents. His aunt Eunhae had even refused to attend the Harvest Festival events until they found whoever was behind all of this, stating that the more people they had guarding his father the better.

The head priest, Hawoon, is seated next to him with the pack behind them. Members of outside packs had started coming into their territory two days ago and the crowd for the opening ceremony is much larger than the Park Pack alone. The musicians are playing a religious hymn in one corner with some of the altar girls and boys bringing gifts from various wolves up to the altar. It’s overflowing by now, space on the altar’s surface having run out even before the prayer had begun. Most of the gifts have been placed along the back wall and surround the altar itself.

Jimin is a little worried about the safety of everyone in the room with them, concerned that the culprit wouldn’t care if others were injured while attempting to get to Jimin but he thinks Jeongguk is right.

The crowd of people lends the culprit anonymity. If they wanted to catch them, their trap couldn’t be any better. 

“Jimin, you’ll need to help me carry the offering into the Moon Goddess’s shrine room,” Hawoon says, nodding at the rather large platter of food sitting at the centre of the altar. It’s laden with the best cuts of meat and fish, rice, soup, every side dish the kitchens could cram onto it, and of course a variety of desert.

The platter is always prepared by the kitchen staff, one of his aunt Myunghee's greatest responsibilities before the festival. The offering was made up of food that the pack had hunted and grown themselves to demonstrate to the Moon Goddess their gratitude for the successful harvest season she had given them. It was taken into the inner shrine and left as an offering to the goddess and eventually distributed to the pack itself. The day before the festival began, everyone would fast from dawn until the full moon would come out, the fast breaking only after food had first been offered to the Moon Goddess.

The festival began once the fast was broken, allowing for celebrations to lead on well into the night. Normally, Jimin would be excited about the large bonfire they would light, excited to dance until his feet gave out under him but tonight, his chest clenches with anxiety.

“Yes, of course, Priest Hawoon,” Jimin says, rising to his feet. His legs groan in protest, aching from how long he’s had to sit fixed in place, knees throbbing.

Together, they lift the platter and Jimin is alarmed by how heavy it is. He’s about to ask if perhaps one of the altar girls or boys could help when Taehyung joins them, easing the heft of the staggering platter.

Jimin and Hawoon smile in gratitude, and the three of them make their way to the back of the temple where the Moon Goddess’s inner shrine is kept.

They’d let Hawoon know of their plan beforehand, not wanting the priest to be alarmed in case any damage came to the temple. Jimin had told him rather firmly to not get involved if anything did happen and that they were well equipped to handle whatever would happen.

Of course, even the best laid plans don’t always work out.

The Moon Goddess’s inner shrine is not open to the public. Stone lines all four falls with a heavy wooden door leading into the room. The room is wide and cool, lit with what must be a hundred candles, the smoke escaping through four holes in the ceiling. During the festival, the door is left open and Hawoon allows certain devotees to come pay tribute depending on their circumstances.

A large statue of the Moon Goddess in her wolf form sits on an inner altar, decorating the back wall. Yet more candles are placed around the base, the smell of smoke burning at Jimin’s nose. 

“The priests were certainly overzealous in their decorations this year,” Hawoon comments, laughing at the candles and the plethora of flowers decorating the shrine room. There are even eight lanterns hanging from the ceiling, each one painted with a phase of the moon and arranged in a circle.

They carry the circular platter, easily a foot wide, and place it directly in front of the altar. From here, Hawoon would continue the prayer alone, the other priests of the temple, only five more, staying outside with the pack and their visitors. They would lead the attendees through the final hymn to the Moon Goddess and Hawoon would return at the climax, announcing that the fast was finally broken. The celebrations could begin.

But no sooner do they place the platter down that Jimin hears a great, wooden thud from the entrance. His head whips in the direction of the door, eyes widening. The door has been shut.

Far more terrifying than that, fire licks along an invisible line on the floor, spreading all around them. The smell of oil had been masked by the candles and lanterns hanging in the shrine but it is obvious now that someone had poured it all along the circumference of the room. Flames spread so quickly, Jimin can barely keep his eyes on them, and soon they are nearly surrounded. Smoke fills the room quickly, the flues built into the ceiling not designed to handle so much at once.

Taehyung moves quickly, crossing the shrine’s floor in five quick steps and tugging his outer robe off. He swats at the fire just in front of the door, Jimin hurrying to help him. Together they manage to get through the flames, attempting to pull on the single ring of metal on the inside of the wooden door, using Taehyung’s robe to shield their hands from the heat.

The door does not budge. 

“It’s been locked,” Taehyung yells over the crackle of flames, twisting around.

“Dear Moon Goddess above, please protect us,” Hawoon exclaims, hurrying over to them. The three of them all join together, attempting to pull on the ring one more time. It does not move.

“It locks from the outside, doesn’t it?” Jimin asks, somehow keeping calm. There’s no way their absence won’t be noticed but he’s shocked that someone had followed after them to trap them inside.

“The drawbar is on the outside, yes,” Hawoon confirms, coughing into his hands. Jimin’s lips twist into a frown, his heart racing in his chest. It’s taking everything in him not to panic.

The flames would devour the room soon, the scent of melting wax becoming almost unbearable. Heat and smoke surround them, Jimin’s lungs beginning to burn. Taehyung screams for help, slamming fist after fist against the door.

“There is no other exit,” Jimin says, staring at Hawoon. He only shakes his head, draping the sleeve of his jeogori over his mouth.

His eyes are stinging from the smoke.

Jimin hurries back to the altar, the ring of fire disappearing into the back wall. He grabs the nearest jug of water, an offering to the Moon Goddess, and finds a knife on the platter they’d brought it. He tears the knife into his sleeves, dipping the rags he’s cut from his robe into the jug of water and hurries back to Taehyung and Hawoon. He hands them both a rag, tying it over his face.

It provides some relief, however short lived, allowing them to breathe without swallowing heat whole.

Taehyung slowly loses steam. Sweat drips down their faces, Jimin barely managing to catch Taehyung when he stumbles back, coughing endlessly. The three of them inch back toward the centre of the room, flames licking at them from every direction.

They were going to die here.

Jimin’s head swims, dizzy and disoriented. His lungs burn and he begins to cough, all three of them crouching low on the floor.

Jimin wheezes, so desperate to stay alive. He still hasn’t told Jeongguk how he feels. Jeongguk who had been the one ray of sunshine through the darkness that had become Jimin’s life. Jeongguk who had promised to protect him.

Just as all hope seems to drain out of them, there are loud screams coming from outside of the room, barely audible over the raucous fire.

Jeongguk is snarling, the wood cracking under the force with which he breaks it open. It falls to the ground with a loud thud, the sound echoing through the room, and putting out some of the fire. Jimin sees three shadows burst into the room and Jeongguk is unmistakable.

He can barely keep his eyes open, black creeping into his vision.

“Jeongguk,” he rasps out, a hand reaching out for his alpha, his mate.

Jeongguk scoops him up into his arms like he’s nothing, running out of the burning shrine room. Jimin’s head falls against his chest, his lungs wheezing, aching from the choking black smoke and the hot, arid air. He thinks he can smell blood but Jimin can hardly focus.

Black swims before his eyes, every breath Jimin manages to take akin to swallowing fire. His throat is so dry, so raw, that Jimin hardly wants to breathe.

Chaos greets them once they’re out of the hallway that leads back into the main altar room.

Jeongguk is more animal than human, teeth snapping and snarling as he pushes his way through the screaming crowd. The smell of smoke follows Jimin out of the temple but with each step away from the fire, Jimin breathes a little easier.

At some point Jeongguk has taken him outside of the temple entirely, finding an open space, away from the screaming crowd.

He cradles Jimin to his chest. The bond throbs, feels stretched too thin, painful.

Jimin’s not sure how long it’ll take for his lungs to stop burning.

He can’t open his eyes.

At some point, Jimin wakes up. 

Or he thinks he does. His eyes won’t open.

He’s lying against a hard chest, a wet cloth carefully wiping his skin.

“Jeongguk,” he says, the word scratching out of his throat. It hurts to talk.

“I’m right here,” Jeongguk assures, pressing a cup to Jimin’s mouth. He smells the water, drinking it greedily. Jimin drinks and drinks, his lips cracking from the heat damage, throat parched and dry.

Finally, he shakes his head when the cup returns to his mouth, stomach bloated with the amount of water he’s consumed.

“Is it over?” he croaks out, unsure what he’s even asking. He just wants this all to be over. He wants to go home and lie curled up in his nest with Jeongguk.

“It’s over,” Jeongguk says, stroking Jimin’s cheek. “It’s over, love. We caught her.”

Love.

Jimin’s heart tells him that’s important. His fingers curl into Jeongguk’s hanbok.

“Caught who?” Jimin manages to rasp out.

Jeongguk is reluctant to say the name, Jimin can tell, but he doesn’t hide it. “Myunghee.”

Oh, he thinks.

His chest aches anew, something devastating breaking through his heart, ripping it apart.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking, chest hollowing out. Jimin has no tears to cry, the heat leaving him with nothing. He thinks he’s shaking, heartbreak so familiar and yet, Jimin can’t seem to get used to it. Shouldn’t he be used to it?

His exhaustion gets the better of him.

The last thing Jimin feels are Jeongguk’s lips pressed to his forehead.

Jimin stands in front of Myunghee.

Her hands have been tied behind her back against one of the wooden pillars in the town square, a bloodied bandage tied around her neck from where Jeongguk’s claws have ripped through her neck. She looks almost as bad as Jimin feels, her hair yanked out of its usual proud braid. There’s a haunted look in her eyes, humiliation radiating from her scent.

The sun is rising on the horizon, the horrors of the night not nearly over. Myunghee’s managed to completely destroy the shrine room. It’s some great miracle that everyone had worked together, passing buckets of water from the village’s main well all the way back to the temple to put out the flames. Yoongi had mentioned that the stone in the room had helped to contain the fire, too.

Jimin knows eventually they would have crumbled to dust, too, and then who knows what would have been left of the temple.

He doesn’t even know what to say to her, simply stares at her.

Taehyung and Hawoon have been rushed to the infirmary and Jeongguk is quite angry that Jimin is here and not at the infirmary, too. He’s not even attempting to hide how pissed off he is, standing not even two feet behind Jimin, radiating fury.

Jimin’s sure he’d be similarly furious were the tables turned around but he wants, no needs, to face her. He needs to know how she could do this to him, to her own brother.

There are several guards standing a few feet off. Jimin had waved them off, wanting to talk to Myunghee alone.

Around him, the chaos has tempered down to haggard bodies going home, the festivities skewered through by one woman’s selfishness.

“Why?” he asks, rage swarming through him as heartbreak bleeds him dry. 

She had helped raise him. She had sat him on her knees and fed him, had taught him how to shift only partially, had gone on runs through the woods with him. She had stood by his side, telling every voice that had risen against him to shut up, to trust in Jimin. She hadn’t meant a word of it.

She says nothing. Just sits there, a hollowed out shell of her former self. 

Jimin had been expecting rage, for her to scream and thrash against them, to be unrepentant. He thinks he could hate her then.

Somehow this is worse.

Jeongguk had followed after them when they’d gone to the shrine room with the platter. He’d noticed the figure cloaked in black tossing a lit candle into the room before they’d pulled the door to the shrine room closed. He’d watched them set the drawbar in place and when he’d rushed forward to put an end to their actions, he’d been seen.

Myunghee had attacked him immediately, ready for him.

She’d brought a silver knife, sneering at Jeongguk and calling him a worthless rogue with every attempt to stab him. But Jeongguk had years upon years of actual fights behind him and Myunghee had only her desperation.

The worst of her damage had been a few knicks against Jeongguk’s skin, the silver knife slicing through his hanbok and across his arms. The bleeding hadn’t stopped, his skin unable to heal. She’d kicked him in the knee and dashed toward the back of the temple but Jeongguk had given chase, uncaring of his injuries.

Just as she’d broken through the backdoor, Jeongguk had lunged at her, tackling her to the ground. They’d fought against the dirt, Myunghee managing a few more knicks until Jeongguk had lost all patience and sliced right through her scent gland.

The shock had rendered her immobile and Jeongguk had snatched the knife from her, tossing it aside. He’d then dragged her back inside of the temple, calling out Yoongi’s name and tossing her at the alpha’s feet before breaking through the shrine room door to rescue Jimin and the others.

Jimin had been given the rundown as they’d walked over to where Myunghee was being kept. He stands in the same town square his mate had been humiliated in, where she had attempted to kill him once.

“I asked you something,” Jimin says, forcing himself to remain calm, steady. He’s past the point of exhaustion, lungs still burning.

When she says nothing yet again, any and all of Jimin’s patience disappears.

“I asked you why!” He screams, his voice hoarse. Every word rips out of him painfully, hands curling into fists. His chest rises and falls quickly, nostrils flaring. It takes everything out of him not to shove her back, to shake the answers right out of her.

The bond pulses with Jeongguk’s concern, the sound of him stepping closer just behind Jimin.

Myunghee flinches, her expression twisting into something horrible and ugly. She lets out a shrieking laugh, finally looking up at Jimin. He nearly backs away, surprised to find so much hatred in her eyes, in the searing onslaught of her scent, acrid and bitter.

“You spoiled fucking brat,” she spits out, lip curling over teeth. “Fuck you and fuck your father too!”

“He’s your brother! Your own brother, what — what could he possibly have done to you — ”

Jimin’s shaking, whether from exhaustion or shock, he doesn’t know.

She laughs again, head tossing backwards, not holding back. “Some fucking brother. He had no right, no fucking right, to take what was mine! It should have been me! I’m better than him in every way.”

She’s seething, a dam burst open. She looks at Jimin with such disdain, such rancour. “He should never have been made Pack Alpha, he should have said no. Appa would have been forced to give the position to me!”

Jimin stands there at a loss, all the rage draining out of him. She had done this because his grandfather hadn’t named her his successor. And what a slap in the face it must have felt like when Jimin’s father had named Jimin his.

She had been passed up because she was an omega.

His grandfather had never been happy that his parents had only had Jimin, his distaste for Jimin quite evident. He’d heard how his grandfather spoke about him to his father, how he’d always say that any good Pack Alpha worth his weight in salt would ensure he’d give birth to an alpha heir.

It feels like a final punch to the gut. That all of this — the last three months of wretchedness that he’s been forced to endure, was born out of prejudices against omegas. That his grandfather had broken his daughter’s heart and her brother had shattered what was left of it.

But Jimin can’t forgive her.

She’s still ranting, calling Jimin’s father a bastard and selfish piece of shit. Jimin stops paying attention. He doesn’t need to listen to her vitriol.

Every question Jimin could possibly have had for her has been answered. There’s nothing left.

She’d had him stalked, had even put the idea to go to the hot springs in his head, all under the guise of her concern for his well-being. She’d had such easy access to him and his father, would have noticed every little thing happening at their house, and had easily stolen his clothes to give the rogues a scent to chase after. Every little thing had been calculated.

He turns from her, ignoring her screams, her maniacal laughter morphing into furious sobs.

Yoongi is standing next to Jeongguk, his expression aghast. Jimin doesn’t have to ask him to handle things. 

He simply walks to Jeongguk, lets his weight rest against Jeongguk’s chest, feels the warmth of his arms wrap around him. 

In the end, it was over.

And for now, that’s all Jimin can ask for.

The Harvest Festival comes to an end.

Despite the rather rocky start, the pack comes together and chooses to celebrate an end to Myunghee and Kang’s plotting. Everyone involved had been caught or in Kang’s case, was dead. Trials could wait until after the festivities were over.

Jimin had been the one to break the news to his father, unable to meet his eyes.

Myunghee had convinced Kang to help her with the promise that she would give him a seat on the Council, a promotion he’d lost for himself when he’d spoken out against Jimin so publicaly. When he’d failed to get rid of Jimin and had been caught, he’d come looking for her, threatening to out her unless she helped him. He’d duped his guards, slipping out of his house right under their noses. Realising what was at stake, she’d snuck the poison into his food herself, the kitchen staff member who always brought Kang his meal completely unaware.

She’d lured Yoo Mina, Healer Yoo’s niece, into aiding her with more promises: she would follow in her aunt’s footsteps and become the next Head Healer. When Mina had tried to put an end to her involvement, Myunghee had blackmailed her. After all, Mina was the one who had first mixed the poison into the ginseng Jimin’s father ate every day. They’d arrested Mina, the beta confessing to her actions easily now that she’d been caught.

The betrayal is hard on his father. While he’s no longer suffering from the impacts of the Blood Moon berries, he can hardly believe that his own sister had tried to kill him and had tried to get rid of his son, too. He’s still bed bound, strong enough to sit up but not walk around. Jimin had hoped to show him the Harvest Festival's closing parade but Hoseok had ruled it out. Maybe next year, he'd been told.

Jimin had also chosen not to tell him everything regarding Jeongguk, only advising him that Jeongguk had saved him and fought off four rogues for him. His father had been terribly impressed but altogether furious that so many rogues had slipped onto their territory. He’s not sure how much his father can take all at once and telling him that Jimin is in an incomplete bond with a rogue, well, that was out of the question for the time being.

His father had survived enough without shock being the thing that killed him.

In all of the ensuing mayhem, Jimin had decided that he would be asking his father to continue in the role of Pack Leader. He had no desire to lead the pack when his father was alive and well. Jimin could take over in another ten or twenty years, after he’d had the chance to build his own family. A family he can only envision with one person.

He’s taken the day off from his duties.

The festival had ended the previous night and Jimin had spent the week recovering from smoke inhalation and juggling the personalities of ten different pack leaders. He’d hardly had any time of his own and worse yet, he’d hardly been able to spend time with his family and friends. Or with Jeongguk.

Jeongguk, who seemed to plague every waking moment of his mind when he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied. He couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to.

They’d barely seen each other, only coming back to the house to sleep, exhausted. Jeongguk had joined Yoongi in leading the investigation on Myunghee, dragging out all the details of her plans.

Jimin had missed him every second they were apart, wanting his shadow back. He misses him even now, feet dipping into the Sangcheon river. 

Jimin hasn’t told anyone he’d be taking the day off. He’d simply wandered out into the woods, the very thought of being cooped up in his office all day driving him nearly insane. He thinks he deserves the break, just one day to himself.

He doesn’t expect anyone to come looking for him, not when the worst is behind them, but Jimin hears the sound of rustling leaves and branches being shoved out of the way.

He looks up, heartbeat racing, fear gripping him by the throat. Jimin nearly scrambles out of the water, expecting a feral alpha to rip through the woods and attack him.

But the person who emerges from the woods is none other than Jeongguk.

He’s wearing his red hanbok, Jimin’s favourite one, half his hair pulled up and tied back against the crown of his head. He is the very definition of handsome, even if his expression is quite severe.

“Jeongguk,” he breathes out, warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of him.

“Did you really think telling no one where you would be was a good idea?” he admonishes, the words coming out rather sharply. Jimin had thought maybe he’d be a little upset but Jeongguk is out of breath, striding toward Jimin so quickly he thinks maybe he should get out of the water.

“I didn’t think anyone would notice,” he protests, guilt swarming his belly.

Jeongguk jumps into the river, completely uncaring of his clothes, and wades over to Jimin, waist deep, with the same determination he seems to have found Jimin with. Jimin doesn’t dare move, feeling almost like a pup being reprimanded by their parents.

“Jeongguk, I — ”

“Never again,” Jeongguk tells him with such firmness that it shuts him right up. He stands in the river, right before Jimin, a hand reaching up to grip Jimin by the face. Jimin sits wide eyed, his cheeks pushed together in Jeongguk’s rather unforgiving grip, and swallows down whatever he was going to say.

He simply nods.

“Good.” Jeongguk lets him go, the tension leaving his body. His scent, which he had been holding back, seeps out and Jimin is shameless, breathing it in greedily. He truly could never tire of the sweet amber, woody and spicy, so familiar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, cheeks flushing.

“You’re quite the handful, you know,” Jeongguk huffs out, moving to get out of the water.

Jimin’s not sure what possesses him but he stops him, a hand fisting into Jeongguk’s hanbok. He only knows that he wants to stare at Jeongguk’s face forever.

“You never left,” Jimin says, searching Jeongguk’s face for discomfort. He finds nothing, only an arched brow directed back at him.

“How are you still surprised?” Jeongguk’s tone is rather dry, almost offended.

“You could have left,” Jimin says, quieter. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“You would have died.”

“Is that the only reason you stayed?” Jimin doesn’t even want to know the answer to that, thinks it would shatter him but he needs to know.

“Do you really think that’s the only reason I stayed?” Jeongguk asks, much softer. He’s moved closer, pushing himself between Jimin’s legs. Jimin’s breath hitches when his hands settle on Jimin’s waist, his scent swarming around Jimin, leaving him dizzy.

“I’ll never forgive them,” Jimin murmurs, heart hammering in his chest as he lets his hands inch slowly up, settling on Jeongguk’s sturdy shoulders. “I — I don’t understand how you can.”

“I don’t care about your pack, Jimin,” Jeongguk says it so easily, with the same disinterest he uses to speak to Jimin’s pack members. Jimin’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Then how will you — ”

“I care about you.” Jeongguk drags him even closer, his fingers digging into Jimin’s hips. His face inches closer to Jimin, demanding Jimin’s focus as if he could look anywhere else right now. Jeongguk is the entirety of the world and Jimin can’t breathe without inhaling him in. “Only you. Your pack is important to you and you are important to me. That’s all.”

“And that’s enough?” Jimin’s voice wobbles as it comes out of him.

“That’s enough,” Jeongguk says, leaning forward, nose dragging over Jimin’s scent gland. He shivers, eyes squeezing shut, fingers digging into Jeongguk’s shoulders. “You’re enough.”

Jimin lets out a whimper, cheeks burning with humiliation at the sound but Jeongguk is only encouraged by it. He digs his nose in harder, lets his lips press against Jimin’s skin, soft and reverent.

“I — I don’t know how to, how to repay you.” Jimin has so much he wants to say to Jeongguk, so much that sits like a hot coal in the pit of his belly, waiting to be ignited. “I don’t know what I’ve done to be enough.”

Jeongguk tsks, pulling away from Jimin’s neck just enough that he can lock eyes with Jimin. “I’ve never met a soul who’s cared about a rogue, at least not someone who wasn’t a rogue themselves. When you called me your mate in front of your whole pack, I was already yours.”

Jimin stares wide eyed at Jeongguk, his heart in his throat. “I would do it again.” 

“I know,” Jeongguk smiles, leaning in to press a kiss just behind Jimin’s ear. His eyes close, breath shuddering in his lungs. “So would I.”

Jeongguk kisses him all the way down to the hem of his hanbok, his touch insisting, like he wants to convince Jimin of his intentions. But Jimin hardly needs more convincing, his heart irrevocably already Jeongguk’s. 

Every touch from Jeongugk’s lips spreads through him like fire and it’s more than Jimin can bear. Jeongguk scents him to his heart’s content, allowing his nose to drag up the column of Jimin’s neck and nuzzling just behind Jimin’s ears, tongue licking over Jimin’s scent gland. He gives just as much attention on his way down, pulling Jimin’s hanbok back so that he can push his teeth right against Jimin’s bond mark and lick over it.

It pulses in want, Jimin’s toes curling into his feet.

“Jeongguk,” he chokes out, hand twisting into Jeongguk’s hair. “Alpha.”

“You’re so easy,” Jeongguk laughs, pulling away just enough to drag the tip of his nose lightly over Jimin’s skin. His mouth meets Jimin’s jaw and kisses along the length of it, hand curling around the back of Jimin’s neck.

His mouth finds Jimin’s, and where Jimin expects unbridled hunger, for Jeongguk to plunder and loot, he finds sweetness. He finds Jeongguk’s mouth soft and hot and firm. Jeongguk kisses him so tenderly, Jimin forgets himself, a tremble running through him and settling in the depths of his heart.

The sun shines down on them brightly, summer coming to an end just as autumn begins.

Jimin knows it’s love this time.

He feels it in every little touch.

And it’s enough.